Slipping
by Frumpy
Summary: Sara helps Grissom, then is beginning to doubt what she really wants when it is within her reach. GSR, casefile - Complete
1. Default Chapter

**Title:** Slipping

**Author:** Frumpy

**Rating: **PG-13, to be on the safe side.

**Summary:** A case, Grissom struggling, G/S angst, and a fluffy bit. (You've been warned.)

**Disclaimer:** If I'd own CSI, we'd have it on HBO by now.

Not beta read - all mistakes are mine, and mine alone. I was feeling frustrated today, so this is a bit on the angsty side.

* * *

Sara sighed. She looked over the page for the fifth time, still not seeing anything that might prove to be a real clue. Shaking her head to focus on the page that started to blur, she put it down again, and looked at her list.

"Got anything?"

Sara turned to see Catherine walking into the Layout Room, carrying a folder.

"Nothing really. Not a thing. Nada. Niente..."

"Oh, save it." Catherine shot her a look, coupled with a mild frown. "You just don't like working the phone records."

"Yeah, well, that's nothing you ever have to bother with, do you?"

Catherine was about to come back with a snarky remark, but then softened her gaze. "Look, I'm sorry. I'm not the one who gives out the assignments."

Sara was caught surprised by the other woman's gentle tone, and it took her a moment to grasp it.

"I... I'm sorry, Catherine. You are right, I'm just frustrated." She thought back to the beginning of the shift. Homicide. Young woman shot to death in a parking lot. Gang area. Shirley McMannon. And what did Grissom have for her? The victim's phone records. She realized she was being selfish - the phone list might hold just as important a clue as any other piece of evidence, but it still didn't lessen the feeling that there might be some underlying reason to Grissom's assignment.

"Hey! Happens to the best of us. No hard feelings." Catherine opened the folder.

Sara was still surprised by Catherine's conciliatory tone, until she recognized it for what it was. Pity. That realization made her stomach churn, but she held it back this time. Save it for the one who deserved it.

"I was projecting. Sorry." She picked up her phone list and walked over to Catherine. "As I said, nothing conclusive, really. I traced the out of state calls to mostly family. Local calls went to friends, her worklplace..." She flipped the page to a series of highlighted numbers. "I did find three unlisted numbers, so I'll look into them next."

Catherine nodded. "Might be something. Tox report just came back."

"Did they find anything?"

"Positive for opiates." Catherine looked the page over once again. "Nothing else. Minute amount, really."

"Pretty heavy stuff, though."

"Hmmm." Catherine nodded gently. "Amount is minimal, which seems weird. Considering there were no other drugs in her system."

"Maybe first time user?"

"Maybe. Might be totally unrelated. Though, gang area, drugs... it's not a stretch."

"Yeah. I'll look into the numbers." With that Sara walked out of the room, and to the rows of desks that coupled as their private work stations.

----------------

"Unregistered."

Grissom nodded. He hadn't expected anything else. "Look into the bullet we recovered, Bobby. Something might stand out."

"Okay. I wouldn't hold any hope, though. If this is gang related, the chances..."

"I know. We still try."

Bobby looked a bit taken aback at Grissom's tone, but didn't show any stronger reaction before getting the bullet out of the bindle. "I'll get back to you, sir."

"Thanks." Grissom was halfway down the hallway, when he caught sight of Catherine.

"Give me some good news."

Catherine looked up at Grissom. She noted how tired he looked.

"Well, " she picked up the tox report and handed it to him. "Found traces of opiates. Not much, so not sure if it really means something. I'll look at the gang angle."

He looked the report over and closed his eyes. "Allright." What had seemed like a pretty cut and dry job at first, was turning into a mess. "Did Sara find anything?"

"Other than bad vibes? Not really." Catherine held his gaze, but he didn't do so much as frown. "She did find some unlisted numbers, and is checking them."

"Thank you. Work the car with Warrick."

--------------

"Yes. Yes, thank you, sir."

Sara put the phone down to see Grissom standing in the doorway. Swallowing her personal feelings, she jotted down the info she got for her first number.

"How's it going?" He walked slowly over.

Sara bit back the answer she wanted to give, and showed him the list. "Slowly. I traced one unlisted number to a bookie. A bit unusual among her phone calls, but... nothing really."

"That seems to be all we're getting with this case."

His admission was uncharacteristic. "Have you talked to Catherine?"

"The opiates, yes."

"Not much hope there, huh?"

He turned to leave the room. "Not really."

"Yeah. You can get a result like that from eating two bagels with poppy seeds."

He shot her glance over the shoulder before replying "Yes. I read the same article yesterday," and was out in the hallway again.

For the millionth time, Sara wondered just when things had gone so horribly downhill.

-------------

Grissom rubbed a hand over his eyes as he sat down in his office. Leaning back in his chair, he didn't bother to switch on his desk light, cherishing the few moments of quiet and peace that he got. The lab sounds were muffled through the closed door - phones ringing, machines whirring, people talking. Usually the background murmur relaxed him, but for some reason he was on edge tonight. He had taken it out on Sara. As so often. He didn't know when it became that way, but channelling the frustration and focusing it on her had become easy over the time. He knew what he was doing. He knew he was incredibly wrong, but he felt powerless to stop it, and that only added to his frustrations.

A soft knock on the door interrupted his thoughts, and he quickly reached out to turn the light on. There was a time when people didn't feel the need to knock hesitantly, either. He was slipping. He knew it.

"Yes?"

Greg poked his head in. "Here you are!" He opened the door wider, and stepped through. "I ran the blood samples Nick collected. Came back your victim. Not even a degraded second sample."

"Yeah, we didn't expect to get anything really. She didn't have any defensive wounds." He took the analysis Greg held out.

"She was surprised."

"Or unprepared."

Greg nodded, mulling this over. "I'd be prepared in an area like this."

Grissom cocked an eyebrow. "Good for you, Greg."

"Not saying I make a habit of..."

"Greg!" The labtech's apparent lack of the ability to realize what was a good time, and what wasn't never ceased to amaze Grissom. Or maybe Greg had it all right, and he was wrong.

"Sorry." Greg turned towards the door. "Warrick found some hairs in the car. I'll get to them right away."

Grissom nodded, then added gently, "Good, Greg. Thank you."

Placated for the moment, Greg shot him a tentative smile, and went back to his lab.

-------------

After the third unanswered call, Sara decided to call Brass, and have him try to rouse the owner of the number somtime during the day. The shift was about to end, and she felt no real desire to put in more overtime.

She waved to Greg, who was busy in the DNA lab, and then went to get her purse from the locker room. She didn't bother to stop by at Grissom's office, but walked by the garage on her way out to say goodnight to Catherine and Warrick, still busy with the car.

On her way home, she stopped at the deli close to the lab to get some takeout pancakes, not feeling in the mood to cook at home. A light meal, and a meaningless tv show would do to wind down from the shift. It usually did, but she found herself contemplating Grissom - again. She couldn't put a finger on it, but something was off. His increasing disrespect for her was hard enough to take, but he had seemed somewhat resigned today. Tired. She had seen Grissom tired before, but never this weary and worn out.

She shook her head at herself. There he was treating her like shit, and she was thinking about why he was this tired. _'Get real, Sara.'_

_-------------_

Not even the rollercoaster granted him the needed relief like it used to. Instead of feeling flushed, and lighter after the rides, he only felt increasingly... empty. Like nothing was able to rouse him enough to care anymore.

He watched the people strolling around excitedly in the early evening. He had never minded crowds, they were good for getting lost in them, but he was feeling trapped, revulsed by the smiling faces. When had that happened?

Weaving his way to his car, he checked his watch. Nearly time to go to work, he realized. He also realized that the prospect of work didn't fill the emptiness in himself like it used to, and didn't know when that had happened, either.

Lately, he couldn't find the mental strength in himself to finish a movie, or even concentrate long enough on it to enjoy it. Let alone reading a book. It all left him feeling untouched, and cold.

At first he had attributed this to his lack of sleep, and told himself when he'd be tired enough to sleep through a night uninterrupted it would all go away. But it hadn't.

Night was when all that he kept pushing down came back up. Sporadic at first, and it left him reeling. Regularly now. His anger, his guilt, his white hot fury, and the pain. He hadn't had a full night's sleep in over three weeks. The struggle to cope with everything had given away to a resigned acceptance, that left him drained and feeling cold. He didn't know whether to embrace that coldness or push it down, too.

--------------

Sara had gotten the note Brass left for her. Another bookie, and a friend that had an unlisted number on the side. There was a time when she would have wondered why, but instead she just added the information to her notes, and enclosed it with her report.

The lab was relatively quiet, with most of the dayshift gone, and her being the first one from nightshift to arrive. Actually, the second one she realized, as she saw Greg already at his workstation.

"Hey!"

"Sara. Hey." He put down the syringe he had been holding.

"You're early, Greg. Want to impress the boss?"

He tried to hide it with a quick smile, but Sara could see the flash of uncertainty.

"Always!" He turned to pick up a folder. "Ran the hairs Warrick found. Definitely belong to the vic, with one hair an unknown."

"Hair?" Sara took the folder and looked over the report. "But the vic was shot in the parking lot, not her car."

"Oh. Well..."

Sara caught herself quickly. "No, good work, Greg." She smiled reassuringly, and wondered again why it was up to her lately. "It might help find a suspect. Thanks!"

Actually, it had given her an idea. She looked over Greg's findings again. Hair. Unknown donor. Male.

---------------

Brass was ready to leave when his desk phone rang.

"Detective Jim Brass... Sara! Hi." He sat back down. "Yes, of course we did. No one currently." He rifled through the folders on his desk till he found the one he was looking for. "Wait a minute."

Pinning the phone between his shoulder and ear, he flipped through the interviews. "We interviewed friends, family, they said there was no one... What? How far back?" He frowned slightly before picking up a pen, and jotting down the names Sara gave him. "Okay, I'll look into it. I'll get back to you."

With a weary look at the clock, he picked up his jacket and left.

---------------

Sara put the phone down, and looked over the extended phone list. She had been poring over the new printouts for over three hours. Satisfied with her findings, she picked it up, and went to Grissom's office.

The door was closed, as had been usual lately. Knocking, she didn't wait for an answer and walked in. Hodges was standing before the desk, and turned slightly as she walked in, but didn't so much as nod to acknowledge her, only went on talking.

"As I said, the hair Greg gave me - no unique characteristics. Short, undyed, male. That's all I could find with this measly piece of trace evidence."

Grissom nodded, and managed to say "Thank you, Hodges.", making the name sound like some kind of desease. Sara suppressed a grin, and waited till the labtech had left the room.

"We made a mistake," she announced without greeting.

Grissom watched her sit down, and waited for an explanation. "We..."

"The phone records. I only got the ones from the last two months."

"As is procedure, Sara. You said you didn't find anything."

She held out the pages she had marked with a bright yellow marker. "I went back, and looked at Shirley McMannon's earlier phone records. Some names popped up that weren't on the recent phone lists, so I asked Brass to check them out."

Grissom looked them over. "Previous boyfriends?" he ventured.

"That's what I'm thinking, yes. We were so focused on the gang angle, we missed the obvious."

Grissom was still looking at the marked names. "Sara... the last one of those if over six months ago."

"Yes." She got up. "Bad feelings linger, you know."

---------------

It was the second name that yielded a result. An immediate result. Mrs. McMannon's eyes clouded over, presumably with bad memories.

"Brian."

Brass nodded. "Did Shirley..."

"He was bad news. Soon as I saw him, I knew it." She sighed. "You just feel who is good for your daughter, and he definitely wasn't."

"Anything you can pinpoint?"

"Not really... just a general feeling." She shrugged slightly. "Shirley left her previous boyfriend for Brian. She was infatuated with him, talking about him day in and day out. Then she left him, one day. Never told me why."

Brass looked at Mrs. McMannon. "Anything happen after that?"

"He cam by one evening. They talked. He yelled. Shirley closed the door and didn't answer her phone for some days." She looked up at Brass. "You think... you think Brian..."

"We don't rule anything out. Sounds like he had a temper."

"As I said, bad news." Her shoulders slumped in resignation.

Brass nodded softly, and didn't know what to say. He had learned that the best thing in that case was to say nothing. "Thank you, Mrs. McMannon."

--------------

Sara looked at Brian in the interrogation room through the one-way mirror. He was a morose young man. Early twenties. Handsome, but with a dangerous edge.

Grissom walked up behind her. "DNA is a match. But that only proves he was in her car... sometime. No one saw him near the parking lot the night of the shooting."

"Doesn't sound like we'll get a warrant."

He gazed at her shortly before settling his eyes on Brian. "No."

"Maybe he'll slip when we question him. You ready?" She started for the door.

"You go."

Sara frowned, and opened her mouth, but Grissom was faster.

"Your suspect. You can do it."

"Thank you..." _'I guess.'_

_----------------_

"Hello, Brian." Brass went into the room first, followed by Sara. "Thank you for coming in. I'm Det. Jim Brass, this is Sara Sidle from the Crime Lab."

"Quite a party for just some questions."

"Yeah, well, we just want to tie all lose ends here, you understand." Brass sat down. "Remember Shirley McMannon?"

Brian's face broke out into a sneer. "Sweet Shirley... oh, hell yeah."

Sara noted he didn't seem to be surprised that her name came up. "You know what happened?"

"Some gang scumbag offed her. Yeah."

"And how does that make you feel?" Sara had a hard time hiding her disdain.

"I'll certainly miss her sweet lovin'... I dropped her anyway." His grin was too smug.

"Oh, that's funny, you know?" Brass circled him. "We heard she left you."

"What?" Brian's face took on a nasty shade of red. "Who the fuck said that?"

"That stung, didn't it?"

He whipped his head around to face Sara. "Yeah. HER!"

"I bet a guy like you, doesn't take it lightly when his girlfriend sacks him."

"Look, lady, I told you! I left her."

Brass pulled out a printout. "I bet. That's why you kept calling her, right?"

"What!"

"I bet that grated on you, didn't it? It was eating away at you, wasn't it? You were mad. She made you look like a fool." Sara watched him closely. "That's why you found her, Brian. After all that time, your hurt little ego..."

He slammed his hand on the table. "I DIDN'T shoot her!"

Brass smiled. "That's funny, Brian. Real funny. You know... we never told the press that she was shot...."

All color drained from Brian's face.

-------------

Brass smiled at Sara when they stepped out of the room. "Cheer up. We got the guy!"

"It's never gonna hold up in court, Jim."

Brass turned to look at Grissom. "But he knew..."

"As did eveyone who heard the shooting that night. It's never going past the DA." Grissom looked at Sara who nodded. "Let him go."

"He did it, Gil, you know it! You know it!" He looked accusingly at Grissom, who turned away.

Sara sighed. "But we can never prove it. We'd need a warrant, and maybe, just maybe, we would find the gun. But we'll never get a warrant based on..." she gestured with her hand in the general direction of the interrogation room, "...this."

Grissom had started walking away.

"Grissom, what... you just giving up like this?"

They all saw the flinch. Nearly imperceptable, but still there. Grissom's voice was low. "Yes, Jim. Just like that."

Sara placed a hand on Brass's arm, but he shrugged it off, and went towards Grissom. "You always wax about there being a clue. Find it, dammit!"

The crack of the fist hitting the wall drowned out Brass' shout. No one said anything as Grissom stared at his knuckles. The cracked skin looking eeriely white, before the blood came. He didn't feel it. He didn't feel a thing. He flexed his hand and looked with a detached wonderment as the blood began to run down the sides of his hand.

Brass had stopped dead in his tracks, his arms falling to his sides. Sara was frozen to the spot, until she saw the heads poking out of the rooms.

"Greg!" Her own voice woke her up. "Bring a bandage... something."

Grissom was still staring at his hand, unmoving, when she took the bandage from Greg, and touched his arm. The touch seemed to make hin snap out of his state, or maybe it was the pain he suddenly felt when she applied the bandage.

Brass had gone on and gotten everyone to get back to their stations, not able to bring himself to look at Grissom just yet, watching as Sara led him down the hallway to the parking lot.

--------------

"You don't need to drive me home." The reality of his lost temper had set in, and he wanted nothing more than to be away from anything and anybody.

"No, I don't. You're in no condition to drive, though." Sara opened the door of her car, and waited for him to put up a fight. Surprisingly, he didn't, and she saw that resignation again.

"Just drive me home, then."

The drive was spent in a thick silence. Sara wanted to turn on the radio, anything to distract her. She looked at Grissom, who was slumped in the passenger seat, looking at the passing lights, but not seeing them, left hand holding his knuckles protectively. The blood had soaked partly through the bandages.

"We should get you to a doctor."

Grissom looked up slowly, as if it took a while for her words to register. His gaze dropped to the bandage. "No. I'll just redress it when I'm home." He turned back to the window, and Sara had to check the desire to turn the radio on once again.

She parked in what she assumed was Grissom's usual parking spot in front of the townhouse, and turned off the engine, reaching for her purse on the backseat.

"What are you doing?" Grissom looked at her from outside the passenger side.

"You don't think I'll leave my purse in the car?"

Grissom looked like he wanted to say something, but then just closed the door and slowly walked towards his front door. He left it open, and went straight to the couch.

"Headache?"

He shook his head, as he heard the door close.

"You want to be alone," she stated matter of factly.

"I am amazed by your deductive skills." Grissom closed his eyes, willing everything away.

Sara bit back the retort, and went to the kitchen, rooting around. She put the water heater on, and was getting out some cups. A groan from the kitchen table made her look up.

"Would you leave if I asked you nicely?" Grissom was leaning against the counter.

"No." She looked for the tea. Even Grissom must have a mundane thing like tea.

He turned his head to the left and looked at some spot on the floor intently, listening to the rustle of tea bags. He sighed. "I lost my temper. Happens. I'm sorry. Life goes on."

"No."

"What?"

Sara looked at him. "You can't keep going like this."

He averted his gaze again. "Ya, well, what concern of yours is that?"

She slammed the cup she had been holding on the counter. "You know what an asshole you can be? I don't know why I'm even here, the way you treated me lately! The world doesn't revolve around just you and your concerns, Grissom." Sara expected him to look hurt, angry, anything but the resignation she saw in his empty eyes.

He swallowed, and went back to the couch, pulling at the bandage.

Sara tried to comprehend what was going on, but was drawn back into reality when he hissed. "Let me get that." She walked over and kneeled down in front of him, unwrapping he bandage. "You got a new one?"

"Bathroom."

She handed him a cup of tea and got up. "Drink this."

He took the cup in his uninjured hand and sipped at it wordlessly. There was nothing to say to make things right. Grissom watched as Sara redressed his hand, and finished the tea. The heat was comforting, and by the time she was done, he could hardly keep his eyes open.

---------------

He woke with a start. Something had roused him from his light slumber. Grissom looked around, and saw he was on his couch. Cup in hand. The cup was forgotten when he saw Sara, and everything came back. He placed the cup on the table. "Sara..."

"I'm not leaving. Go to bed." She had settled on the couch and made herself as comfortable as possible, trying to not wake Grissom up - he seemed to need the sleep. He didn't move or say anything, so she closed her eyes again. She was beyond tired herself, and was hugging the pillow on the couch to her chest, as her breathing began to become more regular, and shallow.

Grissom looked at her delicate neck, her soft hair falling on the pillow she had rested her head on. Before he knew what he was doing, he had reached out to touch the milky white skin, but caught himself in time. Again. And again. His heart said one thing, but his mind kept it in check.

He curled his fingers to a fist, and let the pain from his bruised knuckles take over. It felt good, he realized, and that shook him to the core. When had pushing down his emotions been replaced with drowning them out with physical pain? When had he stopped functioning? There was only so much he could ruthlessly push away before even Gil Grissom would break.

His gaze stopped on Sara again. He couldn't just... keep pushing her away. What right did he have, though? After all he had done. _'Thinking is overrated.'_

And just like that, trusting his gut instinct for once, since he had nothing else left to rely on, Grissom leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss between Sara's shoulderblades.

Sara had been half asleep when she felt Grissom move slightly. She felt Grissom's hot breath tickling her neck hairs, but the kiss was unexpectedly cool. She stiffened. Maybe it was the complete surprise of the moment that robbed the kiss from any sensual quality, and made it a simple touch of lips to her back. Maybe it was all that had happened lately. She'd always expected the first kiss to be sizzling, scorching her skin, but then she was still grappling with what had just happened.

She felt Grissom moving away, and quickly turned her head. "No..."

The baby blue eyes clouded over with some emotion she couldn't read, before Grissom dropped his gaze.

"I'm sorry, Sara. I shouldn't..."

"No." She turned around and grasped his hand, uncurling his fist. The flicker of innocent hope she caught in his eye, for just a second before he seemed to steel himself against the world, made her touch even more gentle. "I meant, don't move away."

"I shouldn't have. I'm sorry." He pulled his hand away again.

"Gil."

He stopped. Completely. That one, simple word made his head spin, and the world stop. His walls were still there. He had always thought they'd be gone for her, but they weren't. But they didn't trap him anymore.

With a sound halfway between a gasp and a choke, he leaned down, and placed his head on her shoulder. Taking in her scent, her warmth, her strength, wrapping his arms around her tightly.

"Sara..."

The word was heavy with emotion as she felt his breath caress the skin of her neck, and she brought up her hands to hold him, run her fingers through the curls on his neck. He sighed against her. They had a long way to go, but this was a start.

"Yes."

And she smiled.

* * *


	2. Chapter 2

**Title:** Slipping

**Author:** Frumpy

**Rating: **PG-13, to be on the safe side.

**Disclaimer:** If I'd own CSI, we'd have it on HBO by now.

**A/N:** I hadn't really planned on making this more than one chapter, but your wish is my command ;)

Sara starting to doubt, so a bit more angst, and more cases. No worries, plenty of G/S ahead, too.

Also, for me, Greg is still in the lab (where he belongs), and the shift split from _Mea Culpa_ never happened.

Not beta read again, so apologies for any mistakes in advance.

* * *

Chapter 2:

Sara woke slowly from a deep sleep. The first thing she noticed was a kink in her back from the unnatural position she had slept in. The second was the weight of Grissom's head still on her shoulder, his soft breath fanning across her collarbone, and the warmth from his body. They hadn't moved at all since falling asleep a few hours earlier. Sara had held Grissom and stroked his hair softly, while he calmed and his breathing pattern grew regular. He had moved his right arm, so that he had it curled around her hip protectively. She looked at the stark white bandage, and again thought about what has happened. _'Where do we go from here?'_

Grissom stirred slightly, but continued sleeping, so Sara didn't dare to move much, for fear of waking him up. She was scared. Last night had been huge, right? But where would they go from here? She was scared she would be overwhealmed. She was scared that Grissom might retreat back behind his walls, ashamed by having shown his vulnerabilty as openly. Scared that he would let his fears rule him again. And scared that this could be everything she had wished for, and so much more.

She felt him move slighty, and looked down, seeing two clear blue eyes peering at her.

"Hi."

He smiled tentatively, as if testing if the muscles around his mouth still worked. "Hi."

She smiled gently at his small voice, and the uncertainty she saw in his blue eyes, mirroring her own, but was encouraged by the fact that they were unguarded, and he wasn't trying to put on his usual mask. Sara ran her hand through his hair, and his eyes closed briefly. "Slept well?"

"Hmm, mmm," he nodded softly, before shifting to a more comfortable position. "Sara?"

"How about breakfast?"

His brow creased slightly, but he lifted his head. "Sure. Let me get cleaned up and changed first, then I'll make you something."

"Okay." She lifted her hand from his head to let him get up, and watched him walk to his bathroom, already missing his warmth. Why was she so reluctant to talk? It was like a role reversal, but she needed to reflect on everything first.

Sara sat up and stretched, then picked up Grissom's cup from the table, and went to the kitchen. She needed to do something.

-------------------

Grissom looked at himself in the mirror after he had changed. He looked rested. Still a bit haunted, but much better. Last night had been the first time he hadn't woken up in the middle of the night. The first time he slept trully peacefully. Not hard to guess what the reason for that had been.

He was unsure where to go from here on. He had never been good at that, but Sara's insistence to change the topic before he could actually begin it, had unnerved him. Did she regret it already? _'Do you regret it?' _He banished that thought from his mind quickly, and ran a hand through his hair.

With one last look at himself, he stepped out of the bathroom, and went to the living room. He found Sara in the kitchen, washing the cup.

"Let me do that."

She looked up a bit startled, as if she had been thinking, then shook her hand. "You can't get the bandage wet."

Grissom looked at his hand as if he had forgotten about it. "Oh. Yes. I..."

"I didn't see any more bandages in your bathroom yesterday, so I'll make a quick run by the pharmacy to get some new ones after breakfast."

"You don't..."

"I know I don't have to do that, but your car's still at the lab." She put the cup away, and placed the dish towel back on the hook.

"Sara... thank you for..."

"What about breakfast?" She smiled too brightly, and raised her eyebrows.

This was really unnerving Grissom. Why wouldn't she even let him thank her? It must have shown on his face, because Sara stepped to him and took his hand in hers.

"Grissom... I..., "she sighed. "I need some time, okay? Everything... everything is a complete chaos right now. It's not about you, okay?"

He smiled relieved. "I'm chaos?"

Sara chuckled. "You're an awful host. Breakfast?"

He squeezed her hand before moving fully into the kitchen. "I laid out a towel in the bathroom for you. You can take a shower if you like while I fix us something."

"Thanks!" She turned to get her purse, and then went to the bathroom.

Grissom shook his head, still wondering what exactly was going on, but turned to the fridge to get out everything for some pancakes.

------------------

Sara walked through the aisles in the pharmacy slowly, not really looking. She had already picked up the bandages, and now was buying herself some time.

Grissom had tried to talk again over breakfast, but she just wasn't ready, yet. And that was frustrating. Here there was everything she'd hoped for within her reach, and she hesitated to take the neccessary step. If it weren't so frustrating, she'd laugh at the irony. She told herself that she actually wanted to give Grissom the time to retreat again, to regret everything, and she didn't want to open herself up to more pain quite yet. But Grissom wasn't the one who was stalling. It was her.

She went to the register, and paid for her purchase. It was afternoon, and the heat was oppressive. Sara waited for the AC in her car to cool the interior down before starting to drive. Justa s she was about to take the turn towards Grissom's townhouse, she changed her mind and drove right by it. She needed time to think. She hated the coward she discovered in herself.

-------------------

Grissom had just finished showering, struggling with the plastic bag he had put over his bandaged hand as to not get it wet, when the doorbell rang. He realized that he was actually happy that Sara was back, and hurried to the living room. He had a hard time not looking disappointed when Brass was standing on his doorstep.

"Grissom..." Brass shifted a bit nervously. "Can I come in?"

"Of course, Jim." Grissom stepped aside and let the detective in. "Coffee?"

"Sure, sure." Brass followed Grissom to the kitchen counter, his gaze stopping on the breakfast dishes. Two sets of breakfast dishes. "Sara drop you off at home?"

Grissom was pouring water into the coffee machine. "Yes, she did."

Brass smiled slightly. "Sure." He cleared his throat. "Grissom, I..."

"Jim. No need to say anything. I lost my temper, I'm sorry."

A bit surprised by the apology, Brass looked at Grissom while the other turned the coffe machine on, and got out two cups. "No, Gil. I have to apologize." He held out his hand when he saw Grissom was about to interrupt him. "I pushed when I shouldn't have pushed. I'm sorry."

Grissom regarded Brass for a moment, then nodded slightly. "Don't worry about it, Jim. I... I wasn't..." he sighed. "It was bound to happen, you were the unlucky one. Don't think about it again."

"How's your hand?"

Grissom looked at his right hand. "Fine. Sa... I redressed it last night. Nothing serious." He busied himself with pouring the coffe and handing Jim a cup.

Brass smiled into his cup at the near-slip, and took a sip. "Of course."

-------------------

Sara walked into the lab apprehensively. For once she wasn't at work early, and she felt guilty for not coming back to Grissom's house earlier that day. She had driven around aimlessly for a couple of hours, before going home, grabbing her gym back, and working out at her usual gym. Exhausting herself on the treadmill had allowed her to get into her usual calm and focused mindset. It also meant she didn't have to think about everything quite yet. She was procrastinating, she knew it.

Everybody was in the breakroom when she walked in, and she furtively stole a glance at Grissom. She had expected to see disappointment or hurt, but instead only saw concern and a slight flicker of amusement.

"Sara, good, you're here." Grissom sat down with his cup of coffee, and picked up the assignment slips.

The mood in the room was colored mostly by a mild surprise and uncertainty, but none of the members of the Nightshift wanted to graze the topic of Grissom's outburst last night, news of which had traveled through the lab like a wildfire. Everyone had expected a sour and moody Grissom, instead they got a relaxed and upbeat supervisor.

"Nick," Grissom handed him a slip, "suspicious circs at the Circus, Circus. Couple didn't check out on the set date, so hotel security checked their room. Husband dead, wife missing. Take Archie with you, you're gonna watch a lot of surveillance tapes."

Nick smiled and took the slip.

"We got one burglary in a Henderson video rental, and one missing persons case. Any takers?"

"I'll take the burglary."

All eyes in the room settled on Sara, and she shifted uncomfortably.

Grissom handed her the slip. "Take Warrick with you. And stock up on extra fingerprint powder." He looked at Warrick. "If the case looks cut and dry, you'll join Catherine and me on the missing person." He got up and looked at Catherine. "Shall we?"

Sara watched everyone leave, and turned to Warrick. "Sorry, I didn't mean to get you stuck on the burglary, too."

Warrick considered her for a moment. "You aiming low tonight."

"What... I like burgalries." She got up. "I'll get the powder, meet me in five!"

Warrick shook his head, and drained his coffee. It would be a long night.

------------------

"Who are you, and what have you done with Grissom?"

Grissom pursed his mouth slightly, then glanced at Catherine. "I'm fine." He turned back to watching the road as he drove.

"Of course you are." She shook her head. "There I was expecting moody Grissom, and I get Grissom on drugs. Are you in denial?"

"I truly am fine, Catherine." Sensing she was about to speak again, he sighed. "Look, I... lost my temper. Happens. I don't deny it, I worked through it."

"Yeah, tell me often enough, and I might believe it." Knowing from experience that this would lead nowhere, she moved to the next subject on her list. "What's up with Sara?"

"What?"

"Oh Gil, come on!" She whipped her head around. "When has she ever taken a burglary voluntarily?"

"We don't distinguish between cases, they are all important and..."

"Oh cut the crap, Gil." She looked at Grissom in the driver's seat. "She took the case you wouldn't work, and you know that." When she got no response whatsoever, she sighed. "Fine. Keep on pretending you don't notice. This is getting ridiculous."

"Catherine...," he said wearily.

"What? You pretend you are all right, when clearly you're not, as yesterday has proven. Whatever it is between you and Sara..."

He interrupted her with a stern look. "I don't want to talk about it."

"So it's you after all...," she murmered. She pulled out the file with preliminary info on the missing person, busying herself with reading it again. Robert Walker, 17. Hadn't come home two nights in a row, the parents had alerted the police three hours ago. A call to the highschool had confirmed that he hadn't been there all day, though the secretary hadn't seemed surprised. Catherine had a bed feeling about this.

--------------------

"Holy crap..." Warrick looked around the chaos that used to be a video rental. "You so owe me lunch!"

"It's not like I broke in here, Warrick." Sara gingerly stepped over a pile of videos on the floor, trying to decide where to begin. The store was well stocked, three walls with shelves of videos and DVDs, and six more rows throughout the room. Movie posters and movie paraphernilia were everywhere. As were the video and DVD cases, the few still standing in their places looked rather forlorn amidst the piles on the floor.

Warrick had moved to the register, the actual tapes from the drawers behind the counter were strewn all over the place. "This is a hate crime!"

Sara suppressed a chuckle. "I'll check for surveillance while you print the register, okay?"

"Yeah, whatever...." He got out the fingerprint powder and brush, and started dusting the front of the counter, cursing silently at the plethora of fingerprints and smudges that appeared. Burglaries were always tedious work. The biggest video rental in Henderson would mean a long night indeed. Working through his lunch choices in his head, he moved towards the register, and froze.

"Hey Sara?"

"Yeah?" came the faint reply from the backroom.

"This was just a burglary, right?"

He head poked around the corner. "That's what the kid working here said. What do you mean?"

"How come there's blood behind the counter?"

* * *

TBC. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Title:** Slipping

**Author:** Frumpy

**Rating: **PG-13, to be on the safe side.

**Disclaimer:** If I'd own CSI, we'd have it on HBO by now.

**A/N:** Thanks for the reviews! Greatly appreciated!

We delve further into the cases, and into what's up with Sara.

Again not beta read, so apologies for any mistakes.

* * *

Chapter 3:

Grissom turned the car into the dark street, and peered at the addresses, trying to find the one they were looking for. The fact that every other street lamp wasn't working didn't help much. And that the ramshackle houses looked very much alike in their desolation didn't either.

"I think this is it, Gil." Catherine pointed to a house on the left, slightly ahead of them. The lights were on, curtains drawn.

Grissom parked in front of the house, the driveway blocked by a beaten up Chevrolet, rusting around the tire rims.

"Where's Brass?" Grissom looked up and down the street.

"What, you scared?" Catherine asked teasingly, but only got a grave look in return. "Don't blame you." She was about to pull out her cell phone, when Brass' unmarked Taurus drove up from behind them.

Grissom got out and nodded to the detective, Catherine walking up behind him, smiling at the detective as he got out of his car. "Donut run?"

"Very funny." Brass ran a hand through his hair. "Had a domestic disturbance call five blocks away. I was closest. Let's check with the Walkers." He turned and led the CSIs to the front door, trying the bell, and then knocking when it didn't work.

One of the curtains moved slightly, and then they heard a shuffle from behind the door, dead bolt being unlocked. "Yes?" The man before them was in his late 30s, hair unkempt, wearing scruffy jeans and a formerly white wifebeater. His wife was in the background.

"Lance Walker?" The man nodded, and Brass pulled out his badge. "Detective Jim Brass. These are Catherine Willows and Gil Grissom from the Crime Lab."

"Crime Lab? What..."

"We're here about Robert. You reportet him missing."

"Yes, we called four hours ago! First it takes you ages to come here, and then you bring the Crime Lab...."

"Mr. Walker," Brass held out his hands. "The lab works the missing person's cases after the police cannot do anything."

"Oh..." Walker scratched his head. "Come in then."

Catherine followed Brass and then man to the living room, tv light flickering over the untidy room. Grissom hung a bit behind, taking the whole house in, seeing if anything caught his eye. "Do you mind if we looked at Robert's room?"

Mrs. Walker looked at her husband, who shrugged. "If you think it'll help."

Grissom smiled gently. "I do."

He motioned for Catherine to join him, while Brass questioned the parents.

"Would you like something to drink?" Mrs. Walker smiled nervously.

"No, thank you, ma'am. Just some questions." Brass pulled out his note pad. "You said Robert hasn't come home since roughly 3 days?"

"Yes. He left for school, didn't come back."

"Why didn't you alert the police earlier?"

"It's... it's not unusual that he stays a night at a friend's."

"Without telling you..." Brass looked up from his notes.

"Yes. Well, he's 17."

Brass cocked an eyebrow. "So he didn't call, nothing?"

"No... " Mrs. Walker sat down. "I called some of his friends after the second night he didn't come home. No one knew where he was. You think..."

"Mrs. Walker... we don't think anything right now. Just trying to establish a timeline." Brass smiled reassuringly at the diminutive woman. He heard Grissom and Catherine stepping back into the room. "Is there anything else you think we should know?"

Both Walkers shook their heads.

"He's a good kid." Mrs. Walker said softly.

"Of course, ma'am." Brass pocketed his note pad inside his jacket. "Thank you. We'll do everything we can. Ma'am, Sir."

Back outside he turned to the two CSIs. "Anything?"

"Not much." Catherine shook her head. "Some drug paraphernilia, so that might be an angle to look at."

Brass looked around the neighborhood and raised an unsurprised eyebrow. "I'll check the school first thing in the morning. See if someone knows something that they wouldn't tell the parents. Not much to work on."

Grissom shook his head. "We'll see if we can find something in the phone records. Kid didn't have a computer, so no lead there. See you back at the lab, Jim!"

"Yeah, let's get outta here."

--------------------

"Did you say blood?"

Warrick gave Sara an annoyed look as she stepped behind the counter. "It's not much, but definitely out of place here."

She nodded and looked outside to the front of the store. "I'll ask the kid if he knows anything about it." She walked towards the door. "Swab it, so we can take it back to the lab."

Warrick furrowed his brow, and murmured "Yes, Grissom." When she was out of earshot.

Outside the lone police car that had responded to the call had turned off the flashing lights. The two officers leaning agains the hood were sipping coffees, and talked quietly. Sara walked to the kid, who nervously waited a bit away from the prowler.

"Nathan?"

"Yes?" He turned towards her. He couldn't be older than 15, lanky nearly too skinny, the blue uniform of the video rental hanging slackly over his shoulders.

"Tell me what happened."

"Uh..." he bit his nail. "I already told the police over there."

"Tell me again."

"Well, " he looked to the side, as if having trouble to remember. "Guy comes in, gun drawn, this ski mask over his head. He asked for the money in the register. I, I was... so scared, I gave him all."

"It's okay, you did the right thing." Sara reassured him.

"He was mad, 'cause it was so little. Maybe 200 bucks. He flipped, man. I mean really flipped." Nathan drew a shaking hand over his forehead. "He pushed me aside, hit the register. Then he started pulling out the tapes like we had anything hidden there. Went through the rows like mad, just sweeping everything off the shelves, throwing stuff around, yelling."

"You called the police when he left?"

"Yeah... I, I waited till I was sure he was gone then called. Didn't touch anything. I seen these crime shows on tv, ya know?" He smiled proudly.

"Good." Sara smiled softly. "Was the guy hurt?"

"No... I don't, wait!" He looked up triumphantly. "He was holding his left arm after he hit the register, like it hurt him."

"Thank you, Nathan, you've been a great help. It'll be a while, why don't you call your boss so you can go home?"

He nodded and looked at the chaos inside. "Yeah... it's gonna take me forever to put everything back..."

Sara went back in. "Hey Warrick?" His head popped up from behind the counter. "Kid says the guy had a hurt arm, so good chance the blood is his. Also print the register, he definitely touched that."

"Okay... I've lifted so many prints, man. No point in checking all the video cases." He looked over the hundreds of empty cases on the floor.

"Yeah. I'll get the surveillance tape, and then we'll go and make Jaqui's night hell. It's going to take her a while."

"Good." At Sara's raised eyebrow he smiled. "Time for you to get me my lunch."

------------------

Sara went to drop off the swabs with Greg, while Warrick was the unlucky one to bring the prints to Jaqui.

Greg's head was bobbing to his own rhythm, which was a bit comical to watch, but he hadn't really dared to put on any music with Grissom's sour mood during the recent weeks.

"Hey, Greg!"

"Sara." He looked at the brown paper bag in her hand. "Oooh, you brought me something?"

"Yeah." She smiled sweetly, then pulled out the three swabs with blood. "Work."

Greg's smile faded slightly. "You guys really should be nicer to me. I'm the one who breaks the cases for you, you know that."

Sara grinned. "Break this one, Greggo."

Warrick stopped in the doorway, his own paper bag in hand. "You comin'?"

Greg pouted when he watched Sara and Warrick walk towards the breakroom then pushed Ecklie's stuff aside, and took Sara's swabs.

--------------------

Catherine looked over the phone lists from the Walker home number. Robert Walker didn't have a cellphone, so this was all they had for now. She looked up when the other two CSIs walked into the breakroom. Picking up one page, she waved it at Sara. "Here, see, you're not the only one Grissom has a grudge against."

Sara sat down and frowned. "What makes you think he has a grudge against me?"

Warrick placed two plates on the table. "That's a good one, Sar." He opened his bag.

Catherine sniffed, and looked at him. "Ooh, that smells good."

"Yeah, and it's mine. You work a burglary with Sara next time, and you might desereve it."

"Hey," Sara turned to him. "You make it sound like it's a bad thing."

"I've had better evenings." He winked and took out his steak sandwhich. "But you're a good cook."

"Flatterer..." She looked back at Catherine. "Is Grissom in?"

"In his office. Why?"

Sara got up and pushed her eggsalad sandwhich towards Catherine.

"Ah, never mind then."

----------------------

Grissom was reading through Nick's preliminary report, when he sensed someone at his door. He looked up to see Sara with a bag in her hand.

"Can I come in?"

He closed the file, and took off his glasses. "Of course."

She smiled slightly, and nooded to the door. "Open. Nice."

Grissom watched her as she sat down, a slight smile playing around his lips. "Well, you were right last night. I really can't go on like I was recently." His eyes held hers, a slight challenge in them.

She avoided his gaze. "About earlier today..." He nodded slightly, telling her he wouldn't push about the night before. "I'm sorry, I didn't come back."

"It's okay. Brass drove me here."

Sara placed the bag on his table. "The bandages."

"Thank you." He took the bag and looked inside.

"I needed some space. I'm sorry. I... " She shrugged her shoulders slightly.

"Sara. It's okay. I understand." Grissom's eyes held no reproach.

"Do you?"

He cocked his head to the side, and blinked a couple of times. "You needed time to think. I do understand that."

"I ran." She locked her gaze with his, trying to look strong, but her voice was betraying her. "I did, I did what I was afraid you would do."

She looked away, but not before Grissom caught the hint of pain and vulnerability in her eyes, and it made his heart clench. He hadn't realized how deeply his behavior had affected her, how it had shattered the trust they once shared. He dropped his gaze to his hands. "Sara, I..."

"Sara!"

Grissom looked up startled, and a bit angry at the intrusion as Greg came to a sliding stop in front of the office.

"Sara... the... I..."

"Greg, calm down." Grissom frowned at the labtech.

Sara turned to him, having regained her composure. "Greg?"

"The blood. The swabs you gave me?" He walked into the office.

"I do remember, Greg." She smiled at him.

He looked at Grissom. "I got a hit from CODIS. It belongs to a Robert Walker."

* * *

TBC. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Title:** Slipping

**Author:** Frumpy

**Rating: **PG-13, to be on the safe side.

**Disclaimer:** If I'd own CSI, we'd have it on HBO by now.

**A/N:** Thanks for the reviews! Makes my day.

All Grissom and Sara this chapter.

Chapter 4:

Grissom peered intently at the screen in the DNA lab that showed the results of the CODIS search. Sara was right behind him, looking over his shoulder. The name 'Robert Walker' blinked steadily. He kept checking and double checking, but the result wouldn't change. Only when he felt Sara's presence move away from him, did he turn around.

"So, your missing person is our robber," she said thoughtfully.

"Only he's still missing." Grissom turned his head and stared off into space for a moment.

Sara could actually see him thinking, trying to pull the pieces together, and form a coherent picture in his mind. She loved to watch him think. The intensity of his gaze was the only thing that betrayed his otherwise serene exterior, showing he was far from calm with the prospect of solving this riddle. Grissom's clear blue eyes flickered back and forth before settling on her face.

"Tell me about the robbery."

Sara was all facts. "He got around 200 dollars, from what the kid running the rental that night said. Trashed the place, I mean really trashed it. It looks like his left arm was hurt, hence the blood Warrick collected."

"If he was still bleeding, the wound was relatively fresh, not tended to."

Sara nodded, falling into his thought pattern effortlessly. "He needed the money. He had to do it. That's why he freaked out in the store. He must have been desperate."

Grissom looked at her for a moment, then turned to Greg, who had been watching them quietly. "Anything more about the blood?"

Greg shook his head. "Nothing unusual from my side. I sent a sample to tox."

"What are you thinking?" Sara prodded slightly.

Grissom's gaze focused on her again. "Catherine and I found some drug paraphernilia in Robert Walker's room. Just some papers, and a pipe."

"You think he needed drug money?"

"A little grass here and there wouldn't really warrant a robbery, but it's a possible angle." He smiled softly. "One of many."

Sara smiled back, slipping into their usual ease when working on a case. "And we don't make the evidence fit a theory, we let the evidence determine the truth." At his amused look, she smiled, then rubbed her chin slowly. "I still have the surveillance tape from the robbery. Archie's still with Nick, so I wanted to wait till he comes back, but how about we take a look at it now?"

Grissom turned to Greg. "Give me the tox results soon as you get them." He looked back at Sara. "Set up the tape. I'll tell Catherine to put some names she finds on the phone records through CODIS, see if we get drug related hits. Meet you in the A/V lab."

She watched him walk off towards the breakroom, before looking at Greg. "I think I really should buy you lunch sometime. Thanks, Greg!"

The labtech grinned openly, when she stepped out of the lab.

-----------------

Sara was rewinding the tape, when she heard Grissom enter, and pull up a chair. She felt his presence settle slightly behind, and to the right of her.

He watched her a moment, not even trying to hide it, and realizing how freeing that felt. "You know, I'm disappointed," he said softly.

Sara frowned and turned around, dreading where this conversation was going, and feeling guilty. Her frown deepened when she saw the sparkle in his eyes.

"Here you bring everyone lunch, and I don't get anything." He nearly laughed when he saw the relief flood her features. He chided himself for teasing her about something this serious. It hadn't really been his intention to lead her on, making her think he was trying to push her about last night, but it elated him too much to see her relieved smile.

"For your information, Grissom," she put on an earnest face. "I bought Warrick lunch to appease him. I should give you the bill, since you put him on the burglary. And Catherine's sandwhich was actually mine, but it quitened her up."

"Ahh," Grissom nodded. "Good tactic. I'll keep it in mind. It's not a barking dog can't bite, but a biting dog can't bark."

Sara laughed. "She better never hear that."

"Hm, wouldn't want me to get hurt now, would we?"

If Sara hadn't known better, she would have described his smile as suggestive. But Grissom didn't smile suggestively, did he?

He saw her features darken a bit, and quickly turned the subject back to safe ground, not wanting to push. Leaning forward he put a hand on her shoulder, and started the tape. "Let's see what we can find."

Sara felt his soft touch on her shoulder, the bandaged part a bit colder than the rest of his hand. His hand lingered there for a moment longer than absolutely necessary, before he leaned back in his chair. She was temporarily caught in the moment, and tried to sort the conflicting emotions she felt - mainly elation and warmth, but also a quiet dread, lurking beneath everything. The flickering light from the tv screen before her caught her attention, and she mentally gave herself a shake to focus on the thing at hand.

They watched the jerky motions of the people caught on a camera running at 1/4th speed of a normal recording. It gave everything an almost comical look, but only until they saw Robert Walker storm in. He had evidently waited till no one was in the store before making his move. Sara saw the fright in the kid behind the counter. The image was too blurry to make out facial expresions, but his every move spoke of fear. It was strange to watch the havoc the robber was wreaking on the shop without any sound, and her mind supplemented her with the crashing noise she imagined would normally accompany the picture.

Focused completely on the tape now, Sara tried to catch anything unusual, anything that might provide them with a clue. They watched the sequence of the robbery several times, silent, absorbing. After Robert ran out of the rental for the ninth time, she turned to Grissom, finding his eyes already on her.

"Anything?"

He pursed his mouth, then shook his head. "Not really. We could see if he already had the skimask he used. I'll ask Brass to check with the parents."

"If he bought it, there aren't that many stores selling them. We could get lucky."

Grissom nooded. "It looked like his left arm was definitely hurt. He cradled it in his right hand after he hit the register. Other than that," he rubbed his eyes, "I didn't see anything that might help."

Sara popped out the tape, and put it back into the evidence bag. "I'll ask Archie to have a look at it when he gets back. And if his eyes aren't bleeding by now." She thought for a moment. "So we have the phone records, maybe a ski mask, and maybe tox finds something in the blood..." she trailed off.

"Hm," he got up and placed the chair back where he had taken it from. "See if you can help Catherine with the phone lists. I'll call Brass and ask him to check about the ski mask in the morning. He wanted to go to the school, might as well swing by the parents."

"Okay. Beep me when you get anything from Greg." She picked up the evidence bag, and walked to the evidence vault, hearing Grissom walk into the opposite direction towards his office.

----------------

Grissom put down the phone after telling Brass about the new developments in the cases, and how they had turned into one. He would put Warrick with Nick, and let Catherine do the phone records. There was nothing he could really do now. Tox would need a while, and Brass would take care of the rest in the morning.

Pulling one drawer on his desk open, he got out the bag Sara had brought earlier. He got one bandage, and placed it on the table. Unwrapping the old bandage on his right hand, he hissed softly at how tender his knuckles still where. He flexed the hand carefully, but quickly thought better of it when the motion stretched the skin painfully. Tearing the clear plastic around the new bandage with his teeth, he tried to redress his hand, but couldn't get it tight enough. It kept slipping, rubbing over the still cracked skin painfully. "Damn."

"Need help?"

Grissom looked up as Sara walked into the room. She motioned to the mess that he had made of the bandage.

"You're not doing too good a job with this."

"I'd appreciate it." He picked up the unrolled pile of gauze, tossing it into the trash can, and got out a new on from his desk drawer, handing it to Sara.

She held his hand gingerly, applying the first layer carefully, as to not hurt him more than necessary. "Catherine went home."

Grissom looked at the clock in his office, and noticed that the shift had ended half an hour ago. "Oh." Sara tugged on the bandage to secure it, and Grissom couldn't suppress a hiss.

"Sorry." She fixed the bandage in place, and looked at her work

"No, you're good. My own fault anyway." He turned his hand, and flexed it again. "Thank you. Did Catherine find anything?"

Sara moved away from his desk, and sat down. "Nothing, yet. She's about halfway through from what I saw, but I didn't want to pick up where she left. You know how territorial she can get."

Grissom smiled knowingly. "So we'll have to wait till tonight. Go home, Sara. Get some rest. I doubt my couch was the best place for a good night's sleep."

"You looked rested." Sara smiled. She appreciated that Grissom didn't try to push her, but was a bit amused at the fact that he didn't seem to be able to drop it completely.

"I am. Thanks to you."

His openness was uncharacteristic, and unarmed her. Sara didn't really know how to deal with it. Getting up from the chair, she went to the door. "Don't be too long yourself."

Nodding, Grissom picked up Nick's report again, and started to read it.

"Grissom?"

He looked up to see her linger at the door.

"Would you like some breakfast tomorrow?" At his open smile she backpedalled a little. "I owe you one, you know, for the pancakes and all."

"I'd love some breakfast, Sara. Thank you." He chuckled softly as she turned and walked away.

TBC.


	5. Chapter 5

**Title:** Slipping

**Author:** Frumpy

**Rating: **PG-13, to be on the safe side.

**Disclaimer:** If I'd own CSI, we'd have it on HBO by now.

**A/N:** Thanks for the reviews!

More G/S fluff ;), and on with the case

* * *

Chapter 5:

The first ring of the phone hardly penetrated his sleep, but by the third ring he was throwing the cover away from his body, and padded to the living room, rubbing his eyes. He hadn't been able to go to sleep for a long time the previous night. Grissom was still too restless, one good night's sleep couldn't change that just like that. He hadn't been lying when he had told Catherine that he had worked through his issues, but he hadn't been entirely truthful either. Not even the admission that he could accept help from Sara made the plaguing thoughts and emotions go away that troubled him at night. Not yet, at least.

He had even tried reading the newspaper, something that was usually dull enough to put him to sleep right away. Finally he had made himself a cup of the tea Sara had made the night before. The smell of it brewing gave him some comfort and quietened him down a bit.

Grissom wasn't really sure where to go from last night on, but he knew he didn't want to go alone anymore, and that admission felt so much better than he would have ever thought.

He picked up the phone. "Gr..." He had to clear his throat. "Grissom."

A soft breath on the other end. "Griss? Sorry, did I wake you?"

He started to shake his head, but caught his normal automatic reply in time. "Yes, but it was time to get up anyway, don't worry." He smiled. It was nice to hear Sara first thing in the morning.

"So, breakfast?"

He had to suppress a chuckle at her nervous tone. It still surprised him somewhat that everything seemed so clear for him after finally admitting to himself that he was ready to let her into his life. He had alwas thought Sara would be the driving force in getting them into...dare he think a relationship? But he was comfortable to take things slowly now. "I plan on getting some, yes."

"Grissom... I meant... ," he heard a soft groan from her side. "God, I feel like a stupid teenager here.." He could actually picture her, shaking her head, annoyed look at her own actions. "Let's meet in an hour. Ah, Dany's Diner? They make killer waffles. Can you make it?"

"Of course. I'll see you then." Grissom settled on his couch.

"See ya, Griss." Sara hung up.

Grissom tried not to feel too disappointed at the fact that she wanted to meet him at a diner, but neutral ground might be better for a talk. If she wanted to talk that is. Admitting him into her home, would be too much like admitting him fully into her life maybe. But he was a patient man. He had accepted for himself that she needed some time. He had hurt her too much in the past, he had realized that now. It had never been his intention, of course, but he understood that by being too focused on himself, and by working so hard on ignoring his own feelings, he had hurt her. He really couldn't blame her for not trusting him now, for when had he ever proving himself trustworthy when it came to their feelings for each other. He wouldn't push. He'd just try to show her that he meant what he had decided that night on his couch, for he was the kind of person who stood by his decisions once he'd made them.

-----------------

Sara stepped into the diner to find Grissom already waiting in a booth at the window, cup of coffee in front of him. She had switched her mind at the last moment during her earlier phonecall, deciding that meeting in a public place was safer. For whom, she didn't know. Grissom had probably expected that she'd invite him to her home, but if he was disappointed he didn't show it.

He stood up as Sara walked to the booth, and sat down again only after she was seated first. It was the small gestures Grissom did without consciously thinking about them that Sara loved.

"Hey." He poured her a coffee from the pot he had ordered.

"Hey. Sorry I woke you. I'm always up too early."

Placing the sugar next to her cup he smiled. "I told you not to worry about it."

"You look tired." She noted the lines in his face and his somewhat drawn expression, although he tried to appear cheery.

Normally he would have come up with some excuse, something about work, but he didn't want to do that with Sara anymore. "I... it took some time to fall asleep last night, is all. I'm okay."

"Of course."

"What about us?"

She looked up from the menu that she had been hiding behind. She already knew what she'd order. "What?"

"Are we okay?"

She was glad when the waitress approached the table and took their orders at that moment. Where they okay? Sara thought they were doing much better than they had for a long time. Just the fact that they were about to share their second breakfast in as many days showed they were more than just okay. What she didn't know was if she was okay really.

When the waitress left, Grissom took a sip of his coffee. "I'm sorry. I said I wouldn't push. It's just not easy not knowing where things are right now, not having answers."

"Payback's a bitch, huh?" She regretted the words as soon as they left her mouth. She hadn't wanted to say them, but there was so much from the past that pained her. The quick flash of pain in his eyes still hurt her though. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that."

"No. I guess I deserved it." He looked out of the window for a moment, the silence getting uncomfortable. Looking back at her, he leaned forward on the table. "I know I hurt you. And I know no apologies can take that back, though I never did it intentionally. I was selfish."

Sara had expected him to retreat after her comment, and was touched by the fact that he really did seem to try this time. She didn't want to be a hard ass, but she also wasn't ready to expose herself to more pain. "Yeah, you were."

His slight grin surprised her even more. "You really could make this a bit easier for me, you know?"

She couldn't help but smile in return, and that seemed to be enough for him for the moment.

"What I'm trying to say is," he tilted his head to the side, voice growing lower and softer, creating a very intimate atmosphere. "I do understand you not trusting me right now. You warned me I might be too late one day. I hope I'm not. But I'm really willing to try. I can't promise you roses, and tell you everything will be perfect. I'm a difficult man to be with, I know that. This is...," he drew a shaky breath. "I am scared. No point of denying that. But I won't let my fears rule me anymore."

"Grissom... I..." she was at a loss for words at his openess. He really did follow through once he made a decision. She knew that from work, but it was nearly too much now.

"You don't need to say anything. Just know I'm there when you need me, as you were there for me." He leaned back again, and picked up his coffee.

Sara watched his hands as he held the cup delicately, noting the slight curve of his fingers. "Have you ever smoked?"

"What?" He frowned.

"Just, the way you hold the cup."

Accepting her change of topic he looked at his own hand. "I did. Long time ago. Old habits die hard, hm?"

"Indeed." She smiled.

--------------------

Grissom settled into his chair at his office. The lack of progress in their case was beginning to frustrate him, so he tried to not let it sour his mood, and let his mind wander to more pleasant thoughts. After their breakfast they had sat in the diner for a long time. Just talking about inconsequential stuff, but learning more about each other in the process than in the last for years of working together nearly every day. It was surprisingly easy to open up to Sara, though he had to be careful not to broach any subject that might have made the moment awkward. He was beginning to get a sense of what the last four years had been like for her.

A knock at his doorframe made him get back to reality. Catherine walked in and sat down.

"Well, I seperated all the calls that the parents made, and concentrated on the ones that where the missing kid's. Or robber's. Whatever. No names where in the database. Probably friends, none with a record. Nothing unusual really."

"Thanks, Cath."

"You got any other leads?" She brushed a strand of hair from her face.

"Not really. Brass didn't learn anything useful from the highschool crowd." He rifled through some papers. "Look, Vartann just called. Possible trick role at the Bellagio, why don't you take that?"

She took the slip but never shifted her gaze from him. "You working this alone?"

"Sara's helping me. Why?"

"Aaaah..."

He looked up and frowned at her smile. "What? The robbery was her case in the first place."

"Nothing, Gil. "She smiled coyly, then got up, walking to the door slowly. "It's just nice to not having to ignore your ignoring Sara for once."

"I'm not even sure your sentence made any grammatical sense really, aside from any actual point hiding in there." He shook his head as she left. He appreciated her wanting to help. If only she could be less smug about it now and then.

--------------------

Sara closed yet another browser window on the monitor and sighed. Brass had asked the parents, and they were fairly sure Robert didn't own a mask. As sure as these two could be about anything relating to their son apparently. But even if he had bought it before the robbery, there were way too many places he could have gotten it at. And she hadn't even started on the casino shops, yet.

Tox hadn't found anything suspicious in the blood, either. And Brass's questioning at the school hadn't turned up any real info, either, from what he had told Grissom earlier. They had nothing. She knew it, but that didn't mean she had to like it. She thought about checking the surveillance tape again. They might have missed something. But even as she thought about it she knew there was nothing on there they hadn't already seen.

Great. Just when she needed work to occupy her thoughts, they hit a dead end. There had to be something, she knew it.

She saw Brass walking by the lab, obviously on his way to Grissom's office, and got up in a hurry. She caught up to him just outside of the breakroom. "Hey, Brass, wait."

He stopped and turned, smiling. "Ah, I dreamed of this last night."

Sara stopped and shot him an exhasperated look. "Excuse me?"

"Aw, way to destroy my dreams, Sara." He put on a mock pout.

"Brass, I'm really not in the mood."

"Dead end?" He took in her annoyed look. "I can always tell with you." Brass chuckled lightly at her threatening glare. "No progress on the ski mask?"

"You're so encouraging, Brass." She walked with him to Grissom's office.

Grissom looked up when he heard them in the hallway. Suppressing the desire to smile at Sara, he focused on Brass. "Tell me you got something."

The detective huffed as he said down, and shook his head. "Sorry. I questioned half the school. No one could tell me anything really. They weren't surprised he was missing, but nobody saw him the past four days."

Grissom nearly growled with frustration. "Catherine couldn't turn anything up with the phone records either. Mostly friends. Nothing useful."

"The ski mask is no help, too." Sara had leaned against one of the shelves in the office, careful not to knock any of Grissom's various jars off it. "He could have gotten it anywhere. Amazing how many places sell ski stuff in the middle of the desert."

"Yeah, well, this is Vegas!" Brass exclaimed brightly.

"Thanks for reminding me, Brass."

He shot her a smile. Getting out his note pad, he looked over his scrawled writing. "Several kids mentioned a friend of his outside of school. I'll check up on him, see if he knows something." He flipped another page. "Ah, yes. Nathan..."

"Hawkes?" Sara interrupted him.

Two sets of eyes settled on her.

"How did you know?" Brass got up.

"That's the kid who works at the video rental that got robbed."

* * *

TBC 


	6. Chapter 6

**Title:** Slipping

**Author:** Frumpy

**Rating: **PG-13, to be on the safe side.

**Disclaimer:** If I'd own CSI, we'd have it on HBO by now. And Santa didn't listen to me yet again.

**Spoilers:** Small one for "Butterflied"

**A/N:** I apologize for taking so long, but real life is rather crazy right now, so I'm not getting as much writing done as I'd like.Thank you so much to everybody who has reviewed! It means a lot.

And Happy New Year!

* * *

Chapter 6:

Grissom was reading a report on Nathan Hawkes, and Sara was reviewing pictures taken from the video store's surveillance tape in Grissom's office.

"Robert must have spoken - even despite the ski mask, there's no way Nathan did not recognize him, if they are really friends," she said half to herself and half to Grissom.

"Hmm." Grissom nodded slowly, drawing a finger over his lips. "They went to the same school before Nathan moved out to Henderson. Several kids from Robert's class said they were close." He put the report down. "I told Brass to tell Nathan that you'd need him for some further questions. No need to rattle him early on, he might clam up. This way we take him by surprise."

"I can't believe he fooled me." Sara pushed the pictures away, and looked to the side. "He seemed so scared. I believed him."

"It happens, Sara. Don't berate yourself for it."

"Yeah, well, I seem to trust the wrong people." She looked at Grissom.

He saw no accusation in her gaze, but still felt like the comment was directed at him also. "You don't trust me."

Sara noted that Grissom said it as a statement, not a question. "I do, Grissom. I trust you implicitly. At work." She saw that it hurt him to hear it, though he tried not to show it.

"But not beyond that." His voice was so gentle, so accepting of the fact.

"Griss..."

He shook his head. "No. I..." He took off his glasses, sorting his thoughts. "I have no right to expect any trust from you."

"It's just... I never knew what to expect. One day you were nice and flirty, the next you ignored me. Or downright shot me down. Do you know how much that screws with a person? Let alone my feelings?" Grissom's openess encouraged her in finally saying some of the things she needed to say out loud. She was afraid to push him away with it, but if he had any thoughts of retreating, he didn't show it.

"I am sorry, Sara." His blue eyes were so gentle and warm, it nearly undid her. "I was fighting with myself constantly, and I ended up hurting you. But I always cared about you. From the start."

"I know, Grissom." Sara saw the slight surprise in his eyes. "I heard what you said."

Grissom frowned and cocked his head slightly.

"The case with Dr. Lurie." Understanding dawned behind his eyes. "I heard what you said in the interrogation room."

He opened his mouth to say something, but then just nodded slightly, leaning back in his chair. "I was wrong about one thing, though. I said I couldn't take the risk. That's in the past, Sara."

Sara smiled. "I think I know that now."

The ringing of the phone startled Grissom slightly. "Grissom." He listened for a moment, then nodded his head towards the door, and Sara got up, switching back into work mode effortlessly. "We're on our way."

----------------

Sara looked at Nathan through the two-way mirror, scowling slightly, as Brass walked in. Grissom was also looking in the same direction, but his gaze didn't go beyond the mirror and was trained on Sara's reflection instead.

Brass smiled slightly to himself before clearing his throat. "How do you guys want to play it?"

Grissom turned away from Sara. "Sara will question him first, lull him into thinking this is a follow-up to the robbery. I'll join after a while, and we'll hit him with his connection to Robert Walker."

"Gil, the kid's 15."

"And he's an accesory to a robbery, might know where Walker is right now, and lied to us." The last was said with a short glance towards Sara. "Has he requested an advocate?"

"Not yet, but he might incriminate himself, so I have advised him of his rights." Brass looked at Grissom pointedly.

"I know that, Brass. He's just the only one who can help us right now." He scratched his beard in thought.

"You're pretty convinced he was in on the robbery." When he didn't get a response from Grissom he sighed. "Fine. This is your show."

----------------

Grissom watched Brass and Sara leave the room, and enter the interrogation room. Nathan looked up, and judging from his smile recognized Sara. Grissom had to admire her acting abilities, for her return smile seemed nothing if not sincere. Only half-listening to the questioning, he turned his mind to Sara again.

To say her earlier words had hurt him was an understatement. But at the same time, they didn't frighten him as much as he thought they might, it was basically a confirmation of what he had expected. And he also realized that it was up to him to change things. He wouldn't pressure Sara, but he also wouldn't stand by passively. She had heard what he had said to Lurie. There had been a time when that would have made him panic, but it actually felt good to know that she understood in a way. It gave him a chance to prove that he truly was beyond that by now.

Catching Brass's look in his direction, he gathered his files, and walked to the interrogation room.

Nathan turned around as he entered the room, so Grissom smiled at him appeasingly. "Hi, I'm Gil Grissom. I just got some further questions."

"Okay." Nathan frowned slighty. "I already told everything."

Deciding that being direct would be the best tactic, Grissom walked to the head of the table at the right side of Nathan, not sitting down. He took out a picture of Robert Walker, and put it down in front of Nathan. "You know him?"

Since Grissom was standing, it forced Nathan to look up at him, before the kid dropped his gaze to the picture. Nathan's eyes only glanced at the photo very briefly, before he shook his head, and pushed the picture away.

Grissom tilted his head slightly and smirked, knowing the unnerving effect it had. Nathan swallowed visibly. "Are you sure? You looked at it awfully fast." He pushed the picture back. "Look again. Closely."

Without looking at the picture, Nathan shook his head emphatically. "No, I told you. Never seen the guy."

"Hmmm." Grissom seemed to think for a minute, then pulled out a file and looked it over. "Interesting. Since you two went to the same school."

Nathan blanched visibly, but didn't budge under Grissom's intense stare.

Grissom sighed, and put the file down. Hands on the table he leaned into Nathan, towering over him. "Listen kid, bullshit time is over. We know you know him. We know you recognized him last night. If you don't lawyer up, you'll have to face more than just accesory to robbery." He felt Brass's glance on him and sat down, gentler now. "We know you know him. We found his blood behind the counter." He waited a beat. "Were you in on it?"

Nathan slumped in his chair resigned, looking at Sara.

"The thing is, Nathan, Robert has been missing for the last couple of days, and we are trying to find him. If you know where he is, tell us now," Sara said gently. "He might be in trouble."

The kid shook his head. "I don't know where he is. We had agreed to meet afterwards to share the money, but he never showed up."

Grissom nodded. "Do you know what he needed the money for?"

"He just said he needed money to pay a debt. I told him I would be alone that night, and that it was the only night Mr. Preston, that's my boss, didn't empty the register in the evening. His kid has soccer practice, and he has to drive him there. Only he did come by that night."

Sara pursed her mouth. "That's why Robert was so angry. He had expected more money."

Nathan dropped his gaze and nodded slowly.

Sara looked at him intently. "Help us, Nathan. You're all we have to find Robert."

"I really don't know much."

"Anything can help." Grissom said gently. "When did you see him last before the robbery?"

"Couple hours before."

"Was he hurt already?"

Nathan touched his arm as if it helped him remember. "Yeah. He was holding his arm. He seemed scared. That's why we thought up the robbery. I think he got himself into trouble." Nathan shrugged. "He had told me something about getting rich soon, some sort of drug deal. But I don't know anything more than that."

"Okay, that's good." Grissom nodded encouragingly. "Do you have any idea with whom he might have gotten involved?"

Nathan seemed to think for a moment. "Maybe John."

"John?" Sara raised her eyebrows questioningly.

"That's who we, err, Robert got his grass from. He seemed to be pretty close with him."

Brass pulled out his notepad. "You got a last name for this 'John', kid?"

Another headshake. "Only John."

Closing the notepad, Brass smiled. "But you know where he deals."

* * *

TBC. 


	7. Chapter 7

**Title:** Slipping

**Author:** Frumpy

**Rating: **PG-13, to be on the safe side.

**Disclaimer:** If I'd own CSI, we'd have it on HBO by now.

**A/N:** Thank you so much to Marlou, who did an incredible job beta-ing this story, and helped me immensely! Thank you. And thanks for the reviews!

A little break from the case. This is a bit on the fluffy side...

* * *

Chapter 7:

The shift was long over by the time they released Nathan Hawkes. Brass had gotten everything there was about that mysterious "John", yet they would have to wait till the beginning of their new shift before attempting to find him.

Sara was standing at the counter of Dany's Diner. The employees had gotten used to her strange choice of meals for the time of day she went there. Dinner at 5 am no longer provided the amusement it once did, and she had long given up thinking about her unusual meal and snack schedule. She was glad no one was asking any questions - she was tired of figuring out how to answer or dodge them.

She really appreciated that Grissom didn't push her, but let her do things in her own time. She had forgotten how considerate he could be when he put his mind to it. And while she felt that he truly meant that he would wait for her, she still felt a twitch of guilt.

Not that he didn't deserve a little waiting himself, and get a small taste of what it was like to be uncertain about another person's motivations, but she still felt a little annoyed with herself for it. Here was everything she had wanted for so long sitting right in front of her, and she didn't embrace it, but shied away from it.

Grissom had said he wouldn't allow his fears to overrule him anymore. She really hadn't understood just how much of a risk she presented to him. And even though she had heard what he had said to Dr. Lurie in that interrogation room, she still hadn't really grasped how he felt. How he thought that she had it in her to hurt him as badly as Debbie had hurt Lurie. Only now was she discovering that she indeed had that capacity within herself. She had accused Grissom of oversimplifying things before, but perhaps she had been the one doing just that when it came to them.

It just showed how much things had changed between them. There had been a time when she would have jumped into the relationship without giving it a second thought, but too much had happened. Too much pain she still felt. From his rejection of her invitation to dinner for example. She allowed a small smile to slip through when she considered how much her invitation to breakfast the other night had mirrored that very fateful other invitation. And he hadn't said no this time, had he?

If anything, he had been true to his word these past days. Yet she still couldn't find it in herself to trust him completely. And she didn't trust herself completely anymore, either.

"Ma'am?"

She clerk's slightly annoyed voice roused her from her musings. From the look on his face she had zoned out a bit.

Sensing his impatience she smiled sweetly, and took the proffered take-out bag. "Sorry, long night."

He rolled his eyes in response. "Don't I know about that." Giving Sara her change, he smiled. "Enjoy your meal, and see you again."

"Thank you."

Sara walked to her car slowly, the crisp night air helping her regain her focus. She was indeed tired, but didn't feel like sleeping yet. There was too much on her mind.

On the drive home she mulled over her options. She could say yes to everything Grissom offered, and see where things would lead. But she was afraid of ending up hurt again. Simple as that.

She could bide her time, and let their friendship become stronger again before she really committed to anything more. At least then they would have a more solid basis to build upon. But she was also afraid that if she waited too long, it might end in him retreating again. The things he had said to Lurie had shown her another side of Grissom. A very vulnerable and insecure side that she hadn't suspected before. How long till her stalling would feed his insecurities?

And then of course there was the option of saying no. But did she really want that? Aside from having wanted a relationship with him for years, she also cherished their friendship, as strained as it had been these past two years. Could they stay friends if they both knew that there was more to 'this', but didn't act on it?

And what was 'this' anyway? _'God, I'm beginning to sound like Grissom.' _Gnashing her teeth in frustration, she resolved to make her decision soon. Just not tonight. No, she had a nice veggie burger waiting for her. It deserved her full attention, right?

-------------------

Grissom threw his house keys on the sideboard, and placed the paper bag he was carrying on the kitchen counter. He had never really developed a taste for take-out, but during the recent weeks he hadn't felt like cooking much, so take-out it was. It was fast, effortless, and he hadn't felt much like indulging recently anyway.

He had been in a bit of a funk since his talk with Sara in his office earlier. The case was as far as he and Sara could take it right now. Everything else was up to Brass for the moment, so that didn't provide him with a subject he could occupy his thoughts with. Unsurprisingly, his mind had turned to Sara.

Unpacking his meal of choice and placing it on a plate, he looked at the food in question. He had always wanted to try it, right? It just happened to be tonight that he finally did. Absolutely no other reason for it. It was not like... _'Oh, who are you kidding. It's a veggie burger, for God's sake!' _Not even his dinner was immune to her anymore.

Shaking his head at himself, he took his burger with him to the couch. This was ridiculous really. He hadn't acted like this since... well, never. Gil Grissom had never been a man to pine after a woman.

And this burger really didn't taste like anything either.

-------------------

The ringing phone interrupted Sara's own dinner preparations - which consisted of getting out a plate and settling down at her breakfast bar with a fresh orange juice. Groaning slightly, and hoping it wasn't work, she picked it up.

"Sidle."

"Hey."

Both of her eyebrows rose at the voice on the other end. That certainly was unexpected. "Grissom."

"I'm not interrupting anything, I hope."

"No,no, you're not. I was just ready to eat dinner before settling down for the night." She walked over to her kitchen slowly, and toyed with the glass of juice there.

"Dinner." He chuckled for some reason unknown to Sara. "Is there anything to make this veggie burger taste like, say, an actual burger?"

Sara's gaze dropped to her own burger dinner "I'm sorry?"

"You're so fond of them. There must be something to make them edible."

"Grissom, are you telling me you're eating a veggie burger, and called me to ask for eating advice?"

"No, not really." His voice was so casual, as if his topic of conversation was the most normal thing in the world between them. "I already ate it."

"Aahm... Try Tabasco sauce on it next time. Maybe." What in the world was he trying to achieve with this? "Grissom?"

"Yes?"

"Are you trying to put me at ease here?"

There was a pause at the other end before he answered. "I guess I am. Is it working?"

She had to laugh; a welcome sound. "Yes, it is. Are you really Gil Grissom or some long lost twin brother with no social hangups?"

"Why, is it really so hard to picture me as a friend, Sara?"

His tone was still cheery, but she felt there was more to the question than he let on. "Griss... It is a bit surprising."

Sara heard his soft assent in form of a 'Hmm' before he spoke again. "Look, I hate talking about this over the phone. Why don't you come over for breakfast tomorrow?" She was silent for a moment. "Sara?"

She heard his slight uncertainty, and decided to keep this light. "Hey, you call that not pushing?"

"No strings attached, Sara. Just breakfast between two friends. No more, no less. Scout's honor."

"You were a Boy Scout?"

He laughed, and it sounded wonderful to Sara. "No. Though it would have been a nice opportunity to study insects. All that camping."

She rolled her eyes. "Bugs. Figures."

The line was quiet for a moment. "Well, enjoy your dinner."

"I will, thank you." She waited a beat, grinning to herself for leading him on. "Oh, and Grissom?"

"Yes?"

"When did you want me to come by for breakfast?"

His relief was nearly palpable over the phone. "You are a tease, Sara Sidle. Is 4 pm okay?"

"I'll see you then. Night, Griss."

"Good Night."

She hung up first, and then smiled again. Whatever it was that he was doing, it certainly was working. She thought back to the choices she had mapped out in the car on her way home. Looks like they had both agreed on option number two.

* * *

TBC. 


	8. Chapter 8

**Title:** Slipping

**Author:** Frumpy

**Rating: **PG-13, to be on the safe side.

**Disclaimer:** If I'd own CSI, we'd have it on HBO by now.

**A/N:** Again, sorry for the long wait, but RL is rather crazy right now. And as CSI seems to build up to even more angst with the way it's going, I keep getting caught up in it. All G/S, and still fluffy.

As always, heartfelt thanks for the reviews. They mean a lot.

* * *

Chapter 8:

Grissom lay silent in his bedroom, staring at the ceiling unblinking. The thick drapes across his windows kept the low sunlight out, but he was starting to feel boxed in. Tossing the blanked that covered him to one said, he felt the chill from the air conditioning on his sweaty skin as he walked to the window and opened the drapes. The sun had just risen and cast a soft yellow light on the neighborhood. Grissom glanced at the watch on his bedside table, confirming what he knew anyway. He had slept maybe three hours before another nightmare had awoken him.

Padding into his bathroom he splashed cold water onto his flushed face, not looking at himself in the mirror. No need to try and go back to sleep now, he knew that. He noticed that he had soaked his bandage, and took it off carefully. The skin over his knuckles was still sore, but well on its way to healing, so he didn't rewrap them. It only served him as a physical reminder of his lost temper. For someone who kept such a tight rein on his emotions and found strength in his control, knocking down lab walls wasn't a healthy way of dealing with his frustrations.

A breakfast with Sara sounded like a much nicer option, so he chose to occupy himself with something useful instead of wallowing in self pity.

Grissom donned a t-shirt and sweat pants and then went to his living room. He rooted around in his bookshelf for a while till he found what he was looking for. His mother had given it to him years ago, but he had never used it before. He liked to cook, and he loved her family recipes, but for the longest time it had only pained him, as it reminded him constantly of the loss of the one person who truly knew him. Lady Heather had been right - that was his biggest fear. Yet she was also wrong, for deep down he wanted to be known, desired to not having to hide constantly. And that scared him even more.

And now the one person that he would let inside his walls was coming over for breakfast.

----------------------

Soft music awoke Sara from a restful slumber. She looked over at her alarm clock, surprised she had actually slept long enough to be awakened by the alarm. It seemed so long ago that that had happened, she had forgotten she had set it to wake her with the radio playing, instead of the annoying beep.

The soft strings of Mozart's ViolinConcerto No. 4 drifted across the room. Not the optimal wake-up music, but it beat being jarred out of sleep by a driving rock beat.

Falling back onto her pillow, she left the music playing and closed her eyes, listening to the soft flow of the melody and not thinking about the math behind the composition as she usually would have. It figured that she couldn't even take simple pleasure from music. It always had to have some purpose, some ulterior function to tickle her brain. She was slowly learning to take pleasure from the simple things in life and not overthink everything.

Like Grissom. Now there was something to ponder. Sara had realized that she had probably put too much blame on his shoulders. She was just as much at fault. And while she had accused him of oversimplifying things before, it had been her really all along. It had been an eye opener when she realized just how complicated things seemed to be to him. Beneath that cool and strong exterior lay one vulnerable soul. Maybe she had always been aware of that on some unconscious level, though it wasn't what had drawn her to him initially.

He had said he would take the risk now. It wasn't exactly flattering to be seen as a risk, but she understood better now, as the tables had turned. He presented just as much of a risk to her. Sara thought she had been ready to pull away, to get on her own two feet. But after all these years he still held a spell over her. It was the only thing that had kept her from running away when he had made his intentions clear. That and knowing that hurting her had hurt him just as much, as cheesy as it sounded.

Rubbing her eyes slowly she got up and stretched. Before going to the bathroom she switched the station on the radio alarm clock - Mozart made her overthink no matter what.

--------------------

_'Table - check. Ice cream in cooler- check. Coffee in coffee machine - check.'_ Grissom looked around his living room. It was so him to plan a simple breakfast meticulously. Shaking his head softly, he went back to the kitchen and the shopping bag on the counter.

After poring over his mother's recipes, he had busied himself with preparing everything. A quick run to the grocery store around the corner included. It felt nice to be shopping for someone else than just him. Usually he just made sure he had some orange juice and vodka for Catherine in the house, but that had become routine over the years. He had never thought of himself as a homey person, but he found pleasure in planning a nice breakfast.

The soft smell from his oven tickled his nose. He had forgotten how much he loved that one, hopefully Sara, too.

Grissom was in the middle of dicing some fruits when the doorbell rang. With a smile he went to the door and opened it.

"Good morning."

"Hey," Sara's gaze drifted to the knife still in his hand, and the kitchen towel slung over his shoulder. "Oh nice. I love a man who does the housework."

Stepping aside to let her in, Grissom smiled slightly. "Only for special occasions."

Sara looked around the room, noting the set table. She was glad he hadn't set a candle in the middle of it or anything like it. Looked like he stayed true to his word that it would be a simple breakfast and nothing more. Or less.Her head snapped to the right when the timer in the kitchen went off.

"Ah, you're just in time." Grissom walked over and she followed him. He opened the oven door and used the towel to get out the baking form. The delicious smell of butter and peaches hit Sara.

"Oh, that smells entirely too good, Griss. Peach Cobbler, hmmm." Looking over his shoulder she saw the other plates he had prepared. "Grissom..."

He lifted one eyebrow when he looked at her.

"I came here expecting some easy breakfast, not a four course meal! When did you have the time to prepare all this?" She meant it in joking, but saw his eyes darken a bit in response. Quickly changing the topic, she made a sweeping motion with her right hand. "I didn't know you could cook."

His gaze softened, and the corner of his mouth lifted slightly in that half-grin of his. "Well, I have many talents you don't know about. Yet."

The line was openly flirtatious. Easy banter, yet also loaded. "I thought I remembered you saying 'No strings attached', huh?"

He had the grace to look a bit embarrassed at that. "I'm sorry. I promised, I know. Forget I said it."

"For now." Her return smile wasn't any less flirty, but she moved quickly towards the living room. "Need any help?"

Grissom motioned behind his shoulder. "Let this cool for a while." He picked up two plates with sliced cantaloupe and strawberries and extended them to her. "Let's start nice and easy. Coffee?"

Sara snatched a strawberry from one the plates before taking them and nodded. Settling at the table, she waited for him to return with the coffees. He handed her her cup and she had to smile. A little milk and lots of sugar, just as she liked it. "Thanks."

She kept stealing glances at him while they ate, trying to decipher what was going on in that mind of his. Mindless banter wasn't their thing anyway, but for once the silence between them wasn't as loaded as usually, so she didn't mind. Aside from the nagging feeling that one of them would have to make the first move and tackle the reason they were here. A breakfast between friends or not, Sara was tired of the indecisive nature of things right now. As much as he tried to keep this light, she just couldn't go on like this anymore. Putting down her fork, she looked at him openly. "Let's talk."

She saw him stop chewing for a moment, a startled look in his eyes, but he quickly caught himself. Swallowing, he ran his hand over his mouth and settled back, picking up his mug of coffee as if he needed something to hold on to. "Okay."

* * *

TBC. 


	9. Chapter 9

**Title:** Slipping

**Author:** Frumpy

**Rating: **PG-13, to be on the safe side.

**Disclaimer:** I still don't own CSI for some reason. And it's still not on HBO.

**A/N:** Sorry for last chapter's cliffhanger, I couldn't resist. More Grissom and Sara, but geez, these two really need to talk. Don't worry, I haven't lost sight of the case, we'll pick it up with the next chapter.  
A big thank you to _ScienceGeek_ for being a great beta! Thanks! And thank you again for the reviews - they truly make this so much more fun.

* * *

Chapter 9:

Sara watched him sip his coffee cautiously. She could see the uncertainty in his eyes, as he didn't try to hide it in front of her anymore. This must be hell for him. In previous months he probably would have tried to diffuse a situation like this by making a comment about work, or throw her one of his ambiguous lines that would baffle her so he could take control of the direction of the talk again. Not anymore, though. He was ready to listen.

She inclined her head in an appreciative manner. "Thank you." Seeing his raised eyebrow, she was reminded of the fact that he wasn't always the quickest when it came to subtleties in personal matters. "For listening, I mean."

He smiled faintly. "It's the least I can do." He leaned forward placing his arms on the table. "Whatever you're comfortable with."

Sara gathered her thoughts before plunging right in. "You... you know I have wanted a relationship from the start. And I was angry with you for complicating things and for blocking it again and again." She ran a hand through her hair. "So much has happened. I learned you valued your work more than me, or even the chance of being with me. And then the promotion... I was devastated. I was disappointed."

"I know."

She looked into his warm and nonjudgmental eyes, and found strength in them. "Not only that I didn't get it. That was one part of it. I was disappointed in you. As a person. I had to learn of it from Nick of all people. You couldn't even tell me to my face. And then you didn't even have the decency to offer me a real explanation. It made me feel like I didn't have your respect."

"It's never been about that, Sara."

"I know that. Now." She looked down and started to toy with the hem of her blouse self-consciously. "I took things too personally. After the promotion I thought I was ready to pull away, and get onto my own t職o feet. I wanted to be ready."

Grissom shifted slightly back, pursing his mouth. "It has always been my fear that we wouldn't be able to seperate the work from private."

"And you were right." At his surprised look she shrugged slightly. "I think I was the one who refused to see things for what they were. I didn't want to see that 'this' was indeed more complicated than I wanted it to be. The sessions with the counselor made me realize some things." She looked up again. "I relate things too much to my private life. All the setbacks I experienced at work, which tie into you mostly, I also saw as setbacks in my personal life. When you passed me over for the promotion, it was like you passed me over as a person, when in truth it wasn't that simple."

"Things were never simple between us."

That made her chuckle, though his almost wistful look at the words mirrored her feelings about so many chances missed, opportunities lost. "No, they weren't. But I see them for what they are now. And I realize that was an important and needed step towards... more."

His intense gaze bored into her. She could see the battle raging on in him. A hope he desperately tried not to feel, and a dread that screamed at him to retreat, to not get hurt. "How about some peach cobbler?"

"W... what?" That completely threw her.

Her bewilderment must have shown, as he smiled gently. "Don't worry. I'm not trying to change the subject or avoid this. I just have the feeling I need something to hold onto for whatever will come."

She nodded, and watched him get up and walk to the kitchen. She actually appreciated the fact that he had given her some time. As if he wanted to make sure she truly meant what she was about to say.

A plate materialized in front of her, and she smiled up at him. The piece was still warm enough to have that sensuous smell of freshly baked things and to make the vanilla ice cream he had put on top of it melt slightly. She took a bite and had to close her eyes.

"Oooh, god. That's delicious."

Grissom smiled and took a bite himself. "Family recipe. I'm glad you like it."

"Like it? I love it." She let another bite melt on her tongue, savoring the different flavors - sweet and sour, hot and cold. The opposite tastes distinct yet blending in perfectly._ 'In a way like Grissom himself'_, she thought amused.

Grissom watched Sara surreptisiously. She looked almost sensual in the way she cherished each bite, closing her eyes, an almost blissful expression on her face.

"Simple things."

He looked up at that. "I'm sorry?"

"Another thing I'm trying to achieve." She motioned to her piece with the fork. "Take pleasure from the simple things in life."

"Another advice from the counselor?"

Sara smiled. "No. From you. In a way."

Grissom frowned. "I said that?"

"Well," she smirked slightly. "Not directly. You never say things directly, Grissom."

"I thought I was on my way to changing that."

"You are. And you deserve a direct answer for that."

He leaned back in his chair again, looking at her calmly, as if he had made his peace with himself.

"I do want more, Grissom. I just think that we have to take things slow. I know now that you want the same, and believe me, you have no clue how much that means."

He shook his head sligtly. "Believe me, I do." He realized he had to explain himself better. "It sort of ties in to what you said, how your personal life and how your self-image was too tied to your work. I never knew whether you wanted me as someone you desired because of what I represented to you, or if you wanted, well, me."

"You, Gil. Only you." She could practically see the weight being lifted off him and the relief flooding his every fibre. "At the same time - this literally is your last chance. I trust you to stay true to your word. Betray that, and I am gone. I cannot say all my doubts and fears are gone, but I want to give this a chance. I know I'm asking a lot, and it must look like I put the burden solely on you, but this is just as much of a risk for me."

Grissom nodded. "I do not fault you for this, know that." A huge smile appeared on his face. Sara had never seen him so completely at ease and open, and it was beautiful.

Sara opened her mouth to reply, when a faint beeping sound made her falter. Groaning inwardly she looked at Grissom and saw that he knew, too.

His hand reached into his pocket to pull out the cell phone. "So much for seperating work and private, I guess."

* * *

TBC. 


	10. Chapter 10

**Title:** Slipping

**Author:** Frumpy

**Rating: **PG-13, to be on the safe side.

**Disclaimer:** If I'd own CSI, TPTB wouldn't be yanking our chains like they did last Thursday. How lame.

**A/N:** Thanks for the reviews! Greatly appreciated! Apologies (again) for the long time it took me to update, but RL is getting in the way.  
And a BIG thank you to **Marlou** for being the great beta she is!  
On with the case.

* * *

Chapter 10:

"Grissom."

Sara was already up and putting dishes into the kitchen sink when Grissom moved a bit away to take the call. His succinctness told her that it was indeed about work. All she heard was "When", "Are you sure?", and "We'll be right there".

He flipped his cellphone shut and looked at her, his expression carefully schooled. "That was Brass. He got a DB he thinks we ought to see."

"Bugs?" She asked hopefully, picking up her purse and walking towards him.

Grissom shook his head softly. "No. No bugs." He looked at her with a dark look in his eyes, and Sara got a strong sense of foreboding.

"You think they found..."

Grissom shrugged slightly. "Brass wasn't specific, but it might pertain to our case, yes."

She nodded and walked past him to the door. "Let's go."

-

Grissom gripped the steering wheel tensely, looking in the rearview mirror to see if Sara was keeping up. He thought he could see both anticipation and dread for what they might find in her face even from this distance. It would mirror his own.

He pulled up behind Brass's unmarked Taurus, mindful of leaving enough room for Sara so she could park alongside his car.

Brass spotted their approach and ducked under the crime scene tape to make his way through the small crowd that had gathered outside the alley. The neighborhood wasn't exactly upscale, but also not quite rundown enough to be a gang neighborhood. Still, a dead body didn't seem to warrant too much attention, and a contingent of flashing police cars apparently wasn't that out of the ordinary, either.

Grissom had just retrieved his kit from the backseat when Brass reached the side of his car. "Hey," Brass looked over at Sara who was walking up to them, her own kit already in hand, then back at Grissom. "Wow, both of you at the same time. You two practice this?"

Grissom wasn't in the mood for this kind of mindless banter. "What have we got, Brass?"

With a raised eyebrow, Brass pointed behind himself. "DB in the allyway. Waste collector called it in about 30 minutes ago, says he didn't touch a thing after he saw the body. He did throw up, but well out of the way."

"Good," Grissom said, then frowned at Brass's exasperated look.

"You know who it is?" Sara interrupted, stealing a peek at the alley, trepidation in her eyes.

"Not yet. We cannot be sure." Brass cast a soft glance at her. "Body's beat up pretty bad. They really did a number on him. White male, young, that's all we have for now."

Grissom nodded. "I take it no ID was found on him?"

"No. David patted him down - nothing. Pronounced a few minutes ago. Listen, Gil," Brass's tongue darted out and he moistened his lips before looking at Grissom. "Technically this would be Ecklie's case. He'll be all over this. You better...".

But Grissom had started walking already. "If it pertains to our case, it's our crime scene."

Sara picked up her kit and shot Brass an apologetic glance before starting to jog after Grissom to catch up with him. It was somewhat unusual to approach a crime scene in broad daylight. In a way the darkness they usually dealt with during the Nightshift and that she had gotten used to since moving to Vegas seemed strangely more appropriate and comforting. Bad things were supposed to happen at night, not in the bright sunlight.

As it was, Sara could see the feet of the body poking out behind the dumpster clearly. Walking closer and circling the dumpster, the body came fully into view, sunshine hitting his legs before Grissom blocked out the light when he put down his kit. Sara walked up to him and grimaced. Brass hadn't been exaggerating, the vic was beaten up badly.

Grissom snapped on gloves and slowly circled the body, showing no overt reaction to the gruesome find before him, but to Sara the slight stiffness in his movements and the tightness around his mouth spoke volumes. He tilted his head slightly and kneeled down.

Sara peered at the area surrounding the body, but couldn't see anything out of the ordinary. They would do a thorough search when David had picked up the victim, but she already knew that there was no chance of getting any shoe prints on the asphalt. She let her gaze travel over the body, meticulously noting every detail to make sure she wouldn't miss anything in her pictures. Putting her kit down, she put on her gloves and got to work, lifting the camera around her neck.

Starting with some general locator shots, she worked her way closer to the body, circling it slowly. She made triples, just to be sure. Finally getting to the close-ups, she started at the feet. Worn-out sneakers, dusty and unkempt. Jeans, blue, ripped around the knees and dotted with blood drops. The t-shirt was nearly completely torn up, the remaining shreds bloody. Sara took a quick look around, but didn't notice any shreds of clothing close to the body, only pools of blood by the head. Dark bruising was already starting to show all over the torso and neck, though the majority of blows seemed to have been delivered to the victim's head. Snapping the last close-up of the face, she looked back at Grissom who was still kneeling and regarding her with a calm look in his eyes.

"What do you think?"

She put her camera down. "I'm not sure." Furrowing her brows she kneeled down opposite of Grissom to get a closer look. "Looks like the age could be about right. And he's male... beyond that..." Sara forced her gaze to wander over the bloated and bloody face, the swelling horrible and making any visual ID virtually impossible. She sighed and shook her head softly. "Never ceases to amaze me..."

"Human nature. I have long given up to expect anything else." Grissom's gentle and resigned voice made her look up, and she caught something in his downcast eyes that made her heart clench.

Grissom looked at the body a moment longer, his jaw muscles clenching, before catching Sara's gaze. He felt comforted by the fact that he could share this short moment of pain with Sara, before steeling himself again. "We'll have to wait till Doc Robbins or Greg can tell us for sure. Till then, let's work this as any other DB." He rose and went to his kit, walking out of the ray of light coming from outside the alleyway.

Sara looked at the left side of the victim as Grissom's shadow moved away, thinking she saw something on the left arm. Gently lifting the arm she turned it slightly and grimaced when her suspicions were confirmed. "Grissom!"

He turned at Sara's voice to look at what she had found. Grissom saw her lifting the victim's left arm and turning it so he could see more clearly what had caught her eye. Seeing what Sara had found, he sighed, closed his eyes and turned away.

* * *

TBC. 


	11. Chapter 11

**Title:** Slipping  
**Author:** Frumpy  
**Rating: **PG-13, to be on the safe side.  
**Disclaimer:** I still don't own CSI for some reason. And it's still not on HBO.

**A/N: **On with the case. Four or five chapters to go after this one, and I promise to update more regularly after this week when I get my life back again.

* * *

Chapter 11:

Sara watched the Coroner's van pull out of the alley and disappear down the street. David had silently loaded the body up, promising to deliver the blood evidence to the lab for them and to notify Grissom of the results if they weren't back in time. Turning, she walked back to the dumpster where Grissom was kneeling in the shade, shining his flashlight across the asphalt. He had taken off his jacket in the afternoon heat and was dressed in a blue shirt and LVPD ballcap to shield his eyes from the sun's glare whenever they stepped out of the shadow of the dumpster. He held the flashlight close to the ground, beam pointing away at a sharp angle.

Sara saw something glimmer for a moment. "Hold it!"

Grissom held still and waited till she had grabbed a pair of tweezers and her camera, and knelt down next to him. Quickly snapping two pictures of it, she lifted the small object and held it up, waiting till Grissom shone the beam of the flashlight on it to get a better look.

"Looks like... some piece of metal. Just a fleck." She turned it slowly. "Tinted black on one side."

Putting it into a bindle, Sara looked up again and followed the direction of the flashlight to where Grissom was pointing it at the dumpster. The grey dumpster. She saw what he was getting at - a matching fleck of metal on the edge of the large container, close to the ground. She photographed and lifted it, too, regarding it for a moment. "You know, it could be totally unrelated. This IS a dumpster."

Grissom looked up for a moment and then continued with his search silently. He hadn't said a word since the body had been taken away, working quitely, taking in, not interpreting, not judging.

Sara shrugged and started searching the area in the opposite direction of where he was moving, concentrating on the work at hand.

**xxxxxxxxxx**

They had been working the scene for over two hours. Grissom ran a hand over his sweaty brow, cringing at the smell of trash he carried after looking through the dumpster earlier. His knees were starting to ache from the constant kneeling, and he was bone tired from lack of sleep and some sort of deeper weariness that had nothing to do with his body craving rest. Other than the fleck of metal they hadn't found anything. No fibres, no shoe prints, no nothing.

Brass had started questioning some of the spectators, but hadn't gotten anything useful. No one had seen anything. The alley was off a main street, so any noise would have been swallowed by the traffic, and it was between a dry cleaner that didn't see much business during the day and a closed bar. Halfway through the dumpster blocked the view of the rest of it, so no one had seen anything until the waste collector had found the body.

The body. Both him and Sara basically knew, though neither of them had said it out loud. But when Sara had lifted the victim's left arm and Grissom could see the cut, it was pretty much clear who they were dealing with. He told himself that he just didn't want to speculate and was waiting for an official confirmation, but the truth was that it was never easy to adjust from a missing person's to a murder case. They dealt with murder and the finality of it on a daily basis. But a missing person's always had a certain glimmer of hope of not only being the victim's last voice but of actually helping them. Not this time.

He shook his head slightly to rid himself of the distracting thoughts and looked over the crime scene once again. The sun had begun setting, creating longer shadows in the alley and making the temperature more bearable.

Sara had collected all the evidence they had found, and was already walking to her car. Good thing they had arrived in seperate vehicles, he wouldn't want to share a car with himself after his dumpster diving. He watched her talking to Brass for a moment before sweeping the scene with his eyes one last time, turning off the flashlight and walking towards them.

Brass was subdued himself and only crinkled his nose slightly when Grissom got to them. "Well, we still got the lead of Nathan's drug dealer to follow. We'll meet up with the kid in about two hours."

"Will you book the dealer when you find him?"

"We'll try to catch him in the act, Sara. That way you guys can question him." He rubbed his chin and for a moment the compassionate man that was beneath the tough and snarky cop exterior shone through. "When you get definite results, call me. Okay?"

Grissom nodded at his friend. "We will, Jim." He motioned for Sara to get to her car and get back to the lab.

**xxxxxxxxxx**

"Gil!"

Groaning inwardly, Grissom dropped his hand from the small of Sara's back and stopped. Sara turned, but he indicated she should keep walking to the Trace Lab. A knowing sigh escaped her and she shot him a quick glance of sympathy before she walked on. This was really the last thing he needed. Grissom turned and tried to put on a pleasant façade, not sure if he succeeded, but also not really caring.

"What can I do for you, Conrad?"

The smug smile he got in return got replaced by a wrinkled nose when Ecklie drew closer to Grissom. "Take a shower for starters, Gil."

"Some of us actually work in the field. And on that note..."

"Yes, on that note. I hear you had Brass go over my head and hand a Dayshift case to you?" Ecklie's face was bland, except for a dangerous sparkle in his eyes. It was like he lived for moments like these, feeding off of opportunities to find fault in others.

"It pertained to an ongoing investigation I'm working with Sara, so no, it was not your case. And if you don't have anything constructive to add..." Grissom was on the verge of losing his patience and letting his annoyance show. The case, the lack of sleep, and now Ecklie were all chipping away at his usually composed demeanor.

"Just wanted to remind you, Gil, that Nighshift's backlog is growing. And you know how much the sheriff cares about the solve rates." He smiled sweetly. "Just one supervisor looking out for the other, right Gil? We're friends here."

Grissom let that hang for a moment before flashing a fake smile. "Right Conrad." He let the silence grow until it was uncomfortable.

Ecklie nodded and swallowed. "Yeah, well. No hard feelings from my side anyway about the case."

Rolling his eyes, Grissom just turned and went straight for the locker room.

**xxxxxxxxxx**

Sara had dropped the flecks of metal they had collected with Trace, grateful for the fact that Hodges wasn't in yet. A run-in with Ecklie was enough to last for the rest of the shift, no need to deal with his twin, too.

Since no one else from the Nightshift was in yet, she checked the DNA lab to see if they had any results. Seeing Foster from days still working on their sample, she decided to do something useful while waiting for it and went to the evidence room. She got out the surveillance tape from the robbery and signed for it, taking it to one of the layout rooms to look at it in private.

Sara knew what was on the tape. She just needed a sort of confirmation for herself before getting the official results. Watching Robert storm into the video rental, she noted his jeans and sneakers, and watched again how he cradled his left arm after hitting the cash register. It all fit.

She heard a slight shuffle from the door and turned to find Grissom standing there. He had showered and changed, looking more refreshed. His eyes were wary though and his shoulders a bit slumped, showing his fatigue. Sara's gaze dropped to his hands and the folder in there. Grissom regarded her quietly for a moment then dropped his gaze and licked his lips.

"DNA checked the blood samples we collected." His voice was soft and rough at the same time. "They are a match to your sample from the video rental and the CODIS file." He closed the folder and walked to her quietly. Handing it to her, he held her eyes for a moment before withdrawing his hand again. "I'll call Brass and tell him that we found Robert Walker."

* * *

TBC. 


	12. Chapter 12

**Title:** Slipping

**Author:** Frumpy

**Rating: **PG-13, to be on the safe side.

**Disclaimer:** I still don't own CSI for some reason. And it's still not on HBO.

**A/N:**Many thanks for the reviews.  
Special thanks to **ebuzz **for her detailed knowledge of WP ;) And as always to **Marlou **for being the best beta there is!

* * *

Chapter 12:

Grissom put the phone down and leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes in the semi-darkness of his office. Brass hadn't sounded surprised, probably having drawn his own conclusions already, but that didn't mean the confirmation had any less of a numbing effect. Before the call, he had quickly checked in with Catherine to ask her to do the assignments for that night. Only one new case, and Nick was still working his old one.

Absently rubbing the ring finger of his right hand with his thumb, his thoughts returned to his and Sara's case and he went through their options. They would have to wait what Trace would make of the metal flecks they had collected. Brass was staking out the dealer right now - that was their best bet, but no telling how long it might take. Robbins... he checked his watch. He should be in since the beginning of shift a while ago, so they ought be getting the autopsy results soon. He'd let Sara...

Sara. He still saw the disappointment in her eyes after he had handed her the file. This case would be taxing to most anyone - he was feeling it himself. But she was always more involved and still somewhat idealistic about their work, so it probably hit her even harder. Grissom wondered again when he had gotten so jaded about their work. Not jaded enough to not feel anything despite what a lot of people thought, though he didn't often show it. But jaded enough to stop questioning why nothing what people could do to each other surprised him anymore, let alone question the reasons behind it.

Turning his hand, he looked at his bruised knuckles. At least he still cared enough for some things. The image of Sara in his townhouse, bandaging his hand, came unbidden, and her unwavering goodness despite all he had done. And then her eyes as she had looked at him just moments before. It hurt him to see her lose some of her idealism. He'd have to get out of his current state of self-defeating guilt in order to be there for her in that regard. He smiled softly when he realized that he actually could be there for her anytime he wanted now.

The small vibration against his hip brought him out of his reverie. Grissom got out the pager and read the message, at the same time seeing a familiar shadow block the light from the hallway. Looking up he saw Sara, her own pager in hand, standing in his doorway. She seemed to have used the time in much the same way as he had, collecting herself because she looked more energized and eager again.

Holding up her pager, she motioned toward the direction of the morgue. "You coming?"

Not able to suppress a small smile at the simple elation he felt at having her by his side, he got up and joined her on her way down the hall.

"Anything new from Brass?" She quickly waved to Greg as they passed the DNA lab then turned her attention on him.

Grissom saw Greg's open return smile and frowned a bit, but then turned to Sara. "He's still staking the dealer out. Soon as they get him, he'll call us so we can question him, too."

"Good." She fell silent for a moment as they continued walking. "Are you turning into a vampire?"

"I'm sorry?"

She smiled. "I know... Graveyard, Gruesome Grissom and such. I guess you have to uphold an image. But recently the light in your office is out most of the time. How come?"

"It is?"

She looked at him trying to gauge whether he was leading her on or truly not aware of it. "Yes, it is. You sit in there illuminated by your small desk lamp at the most. Quite dramatic, I might add, if that's the effect you wanted to achieve."

He shrugged at the same time wondering when he had gotten into that habit. Probably around the time he started knocking down lab walls. "It just helps me think."

"Oh? And what would you be thinking about?"

He smiled at her. "So many things..."

Unable to not smile back, Sara shook her head. "Okay. Let's hope Al found something. And that he'll be a bit more forthcoming than you are." When they had reached the doors to the morgue, she looked left and right surreptitiously. Seeing no one, Sara turned back to Grissom who was frowning slightly. Her eyes sadder again, she took hold of his hand and squeezed it quickly. "We'll get him."

Grissom wished he were as sure, but nodded nonetheless. His gaze dropped to their hands before she let go of his. He didn't know if she'd done it for his or her sake, but didn't really care. For once, Grissom let himself enjoy the moment without worrying, before pushing the door open. Still seeking the feel of her, he gently led her through the door with his hand now on the small of her back, enjoying the fact that he could do so without feeling guilty.

**xxxxxxxxx**

Doc Robbins was just pulling the sheet up to cover the body on the slab when they stepped in. He saw Grissom's hand on Sara's back, also noting that Grissom held it there longer than necessary, almost as if it were the most natural thing between them. Smiling inwardly, he turned his attention back to the body before him.

"I heard this was your missing person, Gil?"

Grissom nodded grimly. His gaze dropped to Robert... the victim on the table. Although the blood had been washed off, the swelling and the now more pronounced bruises made the body still unrecognizable. He stole a quick glance at Sara, but she had her features carefully schooled, all business again. Regarding Robbins again, he looked at him questioningly. "COD?"

"Not surprisingly - blunt force trauma. Caused massive intracranial bleeding." He pointed to some of the larger bruises. "No telling which one was the killing blow, but he was literally beaten to death. I took some samples and sent them to DNA. Scraped under his nails - maybe he fought back." Checking his report, he nodded. "Yes. He did have some bruising on both his lower arms, as if trying to shield his head."

Sara nodded slowly. "You think more than one attacker?"

"Most likely, yes." Robbins lifted the sheet, uncovering the left arm. "I also found a cut on his lower left arm. But it's older than the rest of the injuries."

"Must be by several days. He was already hurt when he robbed the video rental." Grissom glanced at Sara again - it had told them all they had needed to know back in the alley.

"Okay." Robbins pulled the sheet back. "I cannot tell exactly what was used to cut him, but it was something with a jagged blade. Some kind of knife probably. Relatively big. " Shaking his head slowly, he looked at the body for a moment, eyes sad. "I'll page you if I find anything else."

"Thank you, Al." Grissom took the autopsy report from the coroner and was about to turn when his pager went off again.

Sara stopped and looked at him expectantly.

Expression grim and eyes set, he looked up at her. "Brass. He's on his way in."

* * *

TBC. 


	13. Chapter 13

**Title:** Slipping

**Author:** Frumpy

**Rating: **PG-13, to be on the safe side.

**Disclaimer:** Nope, still not mine for some reason.

**A/N:** One more chapter after this one. Thank you for the reviews, guys! We finish the case and then it's on to Grissom and Sara all the way, heh.  
A thousand thank yous to **Marlou** for making this story so much better! Any remaining mistakes are mine, and mine alone!

* * *

Chapter 13:

Grissom and Sara stopped at the Trace lab on their way to the PD, but the Dayshift techs hadn't gotten around to the metal flecks they had found yet and Hodges was just starting. With Dayshift moving out and Nightshift taking over, things were going a bit slower, so they would have to wait some time for the results.

Brass was standing outside the interrogation room when they entered the police station, obviously waiting for them. "Just got in. We caught him red handed, though two of his buddies managed to escape." He pointed to the next interrogation room down the hall. "We got one other accomplice, so maybe we can play them against each other."

Grissom nodded then turned towards Sara who had walked into the observation room to get a look at their suspect. Dark hair slicked back, he had a somewhat greasy look to him, but nothing too out of the ordinary to attract any real attention. He didn't seem too ruffled as he was leaning back in his chair, sipping the provided coffee calmly.

Sara studied him quietly for a moment, trying to assess him. "So that's 'John'."

"Well," Brass waved his hand with a slight flourish. "John Smith, actually."

"You're kidding me, right?"

Brass grinned at her dumbfounded expression. "No, I'm not." Motioning to the officer outside in the hallway, he took a bag from him and held it out towards Grissom. "Also found this on the guy. Thought it might interest you."

Grissom took the bag and then looked at Sara, both eyebrows raised "Well, what do you know." He held out the see-through plastic bag and the big knife contained within. "Knife, tinted black, with the upper half of the blade serrated."

She grinned and took the bag from him, holding it against the light. "I can't see any blood, but looks like the blade is chipped in some places." She felt Grissom step closer to her to get a better look, feeling the kind of easy comfort in his proximity she had missed the last couple years.

"Get it to Greg, see if he can find any blood or traces of it."

She nodded and quickly went out of the room.

"Good work, Brass." Grissom looked at the dealer, then back at his friend. "How long can we hold him?"

"I can wait a bit with questioning, but I wouldn't give him too long to cook up a story. You can swoop in anytime then." He checked his watch. "Let's give Sara some time to get results, so we'll have something in our hands."

**xxxxxxxxxxx**

"You got something about the flecks?" Sara stepped into the lab. She wasn't too hot about talking to Hodges, but he was good at what he did, she had to admit that. The only problem was that he knew it, too.

"Well, it's metal. Tinted."

She waited a beat before taking a deep breath. "That's very informative, thank you. You got anything else?"

"Of course. Ever been in the Marines?"

"Afraid not, but maybe that's a good thing for you. Give, Hodges!" Sara really wasn't in the mood for his pompous antics today.

Hodges looked almost hurt if that was possible for him before motioning towards the microscope. "It's a special mix, used mainly for K-Bar knives. Very popular with the Marine Corps."

"Can you match it to a knife?" She looked up at him.

"I can match it to ageneral type of knife, but not a specific one, no." He shrugged, and turned towards another sample.

Sara held up the evidence bag with the dealer's knife in it. "Would you say this is the general type of knife these flecks came from?"

Hodges turned and looked it over. "I would say so, yes. But nothing really conclusive in that - it's hardly a rare type."

"Thanks anyway."

Quickly walking over to the DNA Lab, she nodded at Greg. "Please tell me you got something!"

"Well," he rolled his chair over to the other side of the room, and picked up a print-out. "I ran the samples Doc Robbins gave me from your victim. Several DNA donors found from the epithelia on his clothes and skin. One hit on CODIS." He pulled out another sheet of paper. "One John Smith... and is that ever a fake name if I've seen one."

"Thank you." Sara looked over the print out and the picture, then handed him the knife. "Can you check this for blood? Put a rush on it, please, we got a certain John Smith waiting in interrogation." She smiled at him impishly, before snatching the DNA results out of his hands and leaving.

**xxxxxxxxxx**

Grissom checked his watch again then turned back to watching Brass work the dealer. Brass was good, not letting on what they really wanted, but time was running out; they couldn't keep Smith in interrogation forever.

He felt her a moment before hearing her, and turned before she entered the little observation room, breathing hard from running the way from the lab to here.

"Hodges matched the flecks to the general type of knife Brass found on Smith," she started without any preamble. "He cannot match it to that particular knife, though, and it's hardly unique." Showing him the DNA results, she wiped her brow. "Greg found several DNA samples, one hit in CODIS. It's Smith."

Grissom nodded and pursed his mouth. "The knife?"

"Greg is checking it for blood as we speak. Griss..."

"I know." He looked at her gravely. Turning to look in on Brass again, he ran his hand over his mouth and thought for a moment. "Check the other guy they've got." He turned back to Sara. "See if you can get any DNA from his knuckles or nails, maybe a sample from him, too."

"Okay."

Watching her go, Grissom took a deep breath and shook his head. This was not going to be easy.

**xxxxxxxxxx**

Brass looked up when Grissom entered the room, and nodded at him slightly. He couldn't read the other man's face, but that wasn't unusual. John looked up when Grissom entered, but the CSI didn't offer any sort of introduction, instead only sat down at the table, looking calmly at Brass and then Smith.

"Who is he?" Smith motioned with his chin towards Grissom and looked back at Brass.

"I'm Gil Grissom. I work for the crime lab." He cocked his head slightly, and looked at Brass again.

"Go ahead, Gil." Brass sat down and leaned back.

"Just a couple more questions." Grissom shot Smith a quick humorless smile, and slowly put down the folder he was holding.

"I already talked with my man Brass, here."

"Well, I think I have some other questions." He slid a picture of Robert towards John. "Do you know him?"

Smith studied the picture for a while, shooting a quick glance at Brass and Grissom, obviously trying to decide how to play it. "Yeah. Kid comes around now and then. Why?"

Grissom didn't show that he wasn't too pleased with that answer. It would have been better to catch him lying, but the guy wasn't dumb. "When was the last time yousaw him?"

"Couple days ago. He owed me money."

Shooting Brass a quick glance, Grissom looked back at Smith. "And what happened?"

"We argued. He didn't have the money he owed me. He broke his word." Smith looked at Brass again. "That why you took my knife? Kid ratted me out?"

Brass looked at Grissom gravely. He better have something up his sleeve, or this talk was not going the way they had hoped. "Did you cut him?"

Smith shrugged. "Kid got hysterical, he might have nicked himself unintentionally."

"Of course." Brass snorted. "He kill himself unintentionally, too?"

"Yo, yo, wait a sec!" Smith held up his right hand. "Kid was alive when he walked away."

With a sudden move, Grissom caught the dealer's hand in one of his and turned it. "Coincidence that your hand looks a bit roughed up and the kid was beaten to death?"

Smith snatched his hand back, and then smirked. "Coincidence that your hand looks a bit roughed up?"

Grissom flashed him an angry glance, and pulled his own hand back. "We got your DNA, John. On the victim. On his clothes, on his face, and not from when he 'accidentally' cut himself. Care to explain that?" Grissom's voice had grown quieter yet more pointed with each word.

"He came back. I had set an ultimatum." Smith leaned back, and spread his arms. "I got an image to lose, ya know? Can't let a kid play me like that."

"So you beat him to death?" Brass leaned forward.

"Who said anything about that?" He shrugged. "We roughed him up a bit, that was it." Looking at Grissom intently, he smirked with a self-satisfied air. "And that's all there is to it, so I guess that's how my D and N and A, " he drew out the letters, "got on the kid."

Grissom clenched his jaw and looked at Brass.

Getting up quietly, the detective pulled John to his feet and led him to the door. After he had handed him over to the officer outside, he turned back to Grissom who hadn't moved, staring at a spot somewhere on the wall.

"I take it that didn't go too well."

Grissom schooled his features before turning around. "We got nothing, Brass, and the guy knows it."

"What about the knife?"

"Inconclusive."

Both men turned towards her when Sara entered the room.

She looked at Grissom and shrugged pointing at the two-way mirror. "I saw it." Looking back at Brass, she handed him the knife. "He admitted to cutting the victim, and we cannot match the metal flecks to it, so it's useless." Shrugging, she moved towards Grissom.

"You got a DNA sample from the other suspect?"

"Yes, but..." she shrugged, sitting down next to him.

Brass huffed out a breath. "So this was for naught?"

Closing the folder and leaning back, Grissom regarded Brass calmly. "We get him for dealing and assault with great bodily harm. We cannot prove murder, though, as there is no telling who delivered the killing blow with multiple DNA samples on the victim. So, no. Not for naught. Just not what we had wanted."

Brass regarded Grissom and Sara for a while, seeing their slumped shoulders and tired demeanor, Sara rubbing her eyes slowly. "Go home, guys. You did all you could."

"Brass, you're not my..."

"I'm asking as a friend, Gil." He subtly motioned to Sara, before turning and leaving them to themselves.

Grissom was grateful for what Brass was trying to do, though puzzled by the little look towards Sara. Before he could mull it over, he was startled by Sara's fist hitting the metal table next to him.

"Dammit!" She hit it again. "Damn that guy!"

"Sara..."

"He's guilty. And he knows we know." She got up and paced back and forth in the room. "Damn."

Grissom sighed and got up. "Yeah. But there's no use in getting angry over it, Sara."

"Don't tell me how to feel, Grissom!" She looked at him angrily, but caught the pained look in his eyes. Moving towards him, she took his hand in hers. "I'm just..."

"It's okay." He squeezed her hand quickly. "Let's go home Sara. We both need a break."

She hung her head for a moment, and then nodded slightly. "Okay." Looking up, she smiled. "Got any of that peach cobbler left?"

Grissom raised a surprised eyebrow and smiled. "Of course."

"Come on then." She left the room, and Grissom could only walk after her.

**xxxxxxxxxx**

"What would you usually do?" Sara put her fork down after her last bite, and took another sip of the coffee.

Grissom shrugged. Sara's sudden change of demeanor back in the interrogation room had surprised him, but he had thought that she was probably putting on a brave face. Not anymore. "Ride a rollercoaster, maybe."

"Oh that helps!" She started to toy with her coffee cup.

"It used to." He got up and took their plates to the kitchen. Sara was still turning her cup slowly when he came back.

"But not anymore." She looked up at him, catching that weary look again as he nodded. "It's a good thing we have each other then, as I don't think a rollercoaster would do me much good, either." She looked back down. "It just makes me so angry." Sara felt him standing there, apparently not really knowing what to do. "Tell me."

"Tell you what?"

"How do you do it? How do you deal with this?"

"Sara..."

His voice was so soft, she nearly lost it. "I'm just..." Sara set her jaw and pushed the cup away. Shaking her head, she tried to shake off the emotions when she felt his gentle touch on her arm.

Grissom had knelt down next to her, and turned her slightly till she faced him again. "I know." His blue eyes looked at her intently.

"Maybe, if we go back to the dumpster we can find..."

"Sara..." He shook his head slightly and laid his hands on her knees. "It's no use. You know that."

She slumped in the chair, and rubbed her eyes tiredly. "I know." They stayed like that for a moment, neither one moving. She waited, but after a while she looked up again and smiled. "Time to get going for me then."

Sara was about to get up, when she saw him look to the side and open his mouth slowly as if to say something, but then he caught her eyes and shook his head slightly.

"Say it."

"Well," he moistened his lips. "We're both tired. You could stay." He shrugged. "I don't mean to be pushing, but you shouldn't drive. And I'll take the couch, I mean..." Grissom closed his eyes at his own inane rambling and then looked up at her calmly. "Neither of us should be alone tonight."

Sara smiled at him softly. "Thank you. But no."

Grissom looked surprised and was about to get up, when she took his hand.

"No. You're not sleeping on the couch."

* * *

TBC. 


	14. Chapter 14

**Title:** Slipping  
**Author:** Frumpy  
**Rating: **R. I repeat, R. If you cannot deal with some RST, run now, do not pass Go, do not collect 200 dollars.  
**Disclaimer:** Last I checked, CM still hasn't handed the show over to me...

**A/N:** Okay, this is the final chapter. I toned it down a bit still the rating changed to R.

**Sirageeks **is so wonderful to host my fics on her site, so the full (NC-17 rated) version of this chapter can be found under www . geocities . com/sirageeks/First time I wrote smut, and the ending is rather fluffy too, because I'm in Geeklove heaven currently, so consider yourselves warned.

Thank you to everybody who's read and reviewed from the start and throughout the story, especially everyone who reviewed multiple times. It means so much and you guys rock!  
Special thank you to **Sirageeks **and **MissIsabella **for being great friends and providing much needed support!

* * *

Chapter 14:

Sara woke slowly, less of her own accord but more because something didn't feel right. She didn't open her eyes just yet, trying to pinpoint what felt off. Cold. Her back felt cold. The last thing she remembered was falling asleep in Grissom's arms. His chest against her back, left arm slung around her hip, big hand pressing her against him, and his soft breath on her neck.

Slowly reaching out, she patted the bed behind her - nothing. Sara opened her eyes, and waited a moment till they adjusted to the darkness of the room. It was still dark outside but the blinds were opened. The moon cast a soft light and she felt a gentle breeze coming from the partly opened window. Slowly she could make out first shapes and contours, one of them holding her interest especially.

Grissom was standing motionless in front of the window, his shoulders moving softly with his breathing, which was the only sound in the room. His arms were crossed in front of him, left hand on his right side and the right one softly rubbing his shoulder almost absentmindedly. From the look of him he was miles away, head tilted to the left, deep in thought, not even looking out the window.

Sara watched his broad shoulders and moonlit profile for a moment. His eyelashes caught the moonlight as he blinked, but otherwise he didn't move at all. Slowly distangling her legs from the smooth bedsheet, she swung them over the edge of the bed and down to the soft carpet. She looked up again, but he still hadn't moved - either not hearing her or not acknowledging it.

"Grissom?" She said it softly, as to not startle him, but he didn't react. Sara slowly walked up behind him, feeling the warmth off his body in the chilly night air. She hesitated only a moment before sliding her hands up his shoulderblades and to his shoulders, his skin smoother than she would have thought, trying to turn him around. Instead, his right hand took hold of hers, and drew it down his chest, effectively drawing her forward and against him. Sara let her head fall against his back and sighed softly, breathing in his scent and wishing she weren't wearing an old shirt of his so she could really feel him.

Grissom closed his eyes for a moment at the sheer bliss he felt from having Sara pressed up against him, her breath fanning across his skin. It surprisd him a bit that he hadn't flinched when she touched him unexpectedly, but that just showed his level of comfort when it came to Sara. Opening his eyes, he turned his head further to the left. "I'm sorry. Did I wake you?"

He felt her shake her head against his back more than he heard her answer, so he released her hand and turned around, already missing the feel of her against him.

"I couldn't sleep and you looked so peaceful. I didn't want to wake you." He smiled indulgently at Sara's still sleepfilled eyes and tucked a strand of hair beneath her ear. "Go back to sleep, honey."

Sara smiled at his soft and gentle voice, but when she raised her eyes to his all thoughts of going back to sleep vanished. His eyes looked positively haunted, she couldn't describe it any differently. Almost translucent in the silvery moonlight, unguarded yet distant and dark. Her surprise must have shown, because Grissom swallowed and looked away.

"It's nothing, I just couldn't sleep." He swallowed again and looked back at her. "Just a nightmare."

"Don't tell me it's nothing, Grissom." She softly bit her bottom lip. "Is it the case?"

"I don't..." He turned around and sat down on the bed, falling silent for a while.

Sara didn't want to push him too much, so she drew the shirt around her closer together to ward off the chill and quietly sat down next to him. He had never been comfortable with showing what he perceived as weaknesses, so she appreciated that Grissom hadn't pulled away immediately. Feeling the bed move slightly next to her, she turned and saw him rubbing his temples slowly.

"Headache?"

He shook his head, letting his hands drop into his lap. "Sometimes I just cannot sleep, wracking my brain, trying to discern where I went wrong." Pursing his lips, Grissom lifted his head and turned to Sara, more collected again.

"You didn't do anything wrong, Grissom. We didn't. It's... " she waved her hand aimlessly. "It's..."

"The system? The elusive 'them'." He smiled almost mockingly, knowing her gripe about the fallability of the justice system well. All gentleness was gone from his voice, and Sara was taken aback for a moment. "That's an easy way out. But go ahead."

Watching him turn away again, Sara tried to gather what had happened just now, but was quickly getting mad at his dismissive behavior. It was probably his way of coping, but she sure wouldn't let him go superior on her. "Well, I'm not the one who's standing around my bedroom in the middle of the night."

"Good for you."

Nothing. All the closeness she had felt just minutes before was gone and she just felt nothing from Grissom suddenly. Like he had pulled away completely, closing her out again. It would never change. Standing up abruptly, Sara picked up her jeans and began to put them on. She bent down, picking up a sock, then looked at him. He was watching her silently, eyes big, almost innocent.

"Why are you doing this, Grissom?"

He frowned slightly, but only continued to watch her, looking incredibly young.

"Is it some sick sense of obligation, like you feel you just don't deserve to be happy?" Sara thought she saw him flinch as she bent down to pick up a sock, so he wasn't as above things as he'd like. "Some kind of self fulfilling prophecy you set for yourself?" She found the other sock. "Do you find validation in taking on everyone's problems?" Taking in his motionless form, head dropped now, she threw the socks on the bed, and kneeled down in front of him. "It's not your fault, Grissom. Why keep hurting yourself?"

Grissom looked up at her. "That's just the way things are, Sara."

"Oh, so you just accept anything, simply because things are as they are in your mind?" She looked at him sharply, getting more and more angry at his aloof manner.

He took her anger and accepted it, shaking his head slowly. "No. Feeling bitter towards the system is futile. It is what it is. It is me and my work that I have control over. I don't blame the system. I can only blame myself."

Sara was still too worked up and indignant to catch the sadness in his tone. "Grissom, you cannot take responsibility for all the crimes that don't get solved. You cannot feel guilty for every victim that didn't get the justice they deserved!"

"If not me, then who is ultimately responsible?"

"No one! You've been telling me that from the start. That's just how it is." She frowned. "You just said it yourself."

"No." He looked away. "The system isn't life, it's a man-made construction I have no control over. I can only control what I do. I don't believe in fate. I believe in my actions and the implications of them. I alone am responsible. I alone am the one who fails, not some celestial force that guides things or some societal construct."

"Grissom..." Sara was stunned at the depth of guilt she now realized he felt. His unerring drive at work, his insistence on always improving oneself, but also his cool acceptance of things became clear to her now. The burden he chose to carry for all of them.

He smiled almost sadly, running his knuckles gently over her right cheek. "It's allright, Sara. I've long accepted it."

She took hold of his hand, and held his bruised knuckles to her lips, all anger gone, replaced by a true understanding. "No, you don't have to shoulder that load, Gil."

His eyes held a deep and old sadness, yet he smiled softly, drawing her closer. "My sweet Sara." The words were murmured against her hair, almost reverently. "How did I go through life for so long without you..." He tightened his hold on her, almost forcefully pressing her against himself.

After a while Sara softly tugged on the soft curly hair at the nape of his neck and forced him to look at her. The depth of emotion she saw nearly made her choke up, but she swallowed it, wanting to be strong for him now. "I'll always catch you, Gil. Every time you start to doubt, every time you need to feel alive - I'll be there for you."

Grissom drew a shuddering breath and kissed her, almost desperately. "I need to feel... I need you..."

She deepened the kiss and started to push him further onto the bed. "You got me."

Grissom smiled and kissed her again, gently this time, before letting go of her, turning, and drawing her up so she was sitting on his lap in the middle of the bed. Moving his hands to the top of her shirt, he slowly unbuttoned it, sliding each button through the holes carefully, his gaze never leaving Sara's face as he worked his way down. When the shirt fell open, he ran his fingers along the edge of it slowly, feeling the course material under his fingertips. Shortly before reaching the top, his hands slipped under the shirt to Sara's shoulders. Fingers sensitised by the rough fabric, her skin felt so incredibly soft. Grissom let his fingers dance over her shoulders and along her collarbone, simply enjoying the feel of her, before sliding the garment off of her.

Sara began to extricate her arms from it, but he softly shook his head. "Leave it."

The question danced in her eyes momentarily, but was forgotten when she felt his hands travel along her arms, over her shoulders, up her neck and face, and then softly cup her cheeks.

Grissom felt more than heard her soft moan when he ran his thumbs over her lips, her chin and down her throat. He couldn't believe how soft and smooth her skin was. Leaning forward, he traced her jawline with feathersoft kisses, then slowly licked his way down her throat, kissing her on each collerbone, before licking the juncture between her shoulder and neck. Feeling the erratic pulse under his lips he bit softly, hearing her gasp before soothing the skin with his tongue. He kept nipping and licking the spot for a while, hands roaming over her back, before settling on her hips, holding them possessively. Laying his cheek on her shoulder, he pressed her hips towards him, exhaling slowly. "God, Sara..."

She ached to touch him, and started to move her arms again, but he shook his head slowly, lifting it to look at her. Running his hands down her arms, he took hold of her wrists still encased by the shirt. "No." He tightened his grip slightly. Slowly pushing her back with his body, he lifted her arms abover her head till they rested on the pillow, twisting the garment till it entwinded her wrists.

Sara's brow furrowed slightly, and he saw the question return to her eyes. "Ssshhh." He kissed her softly. "Trust me."

She looked into his eyes then closed her own, nodding. Sara could taste his smile when he kissed her again, tongue running over her lips, teasing them, before slipping in. For minutes, he explored her mouth in a leasurely manner, ending it with a soft nip on her bottom lip. Feeling his weight shift, she opened her eyes again, watching as he kneeled next ot her.

Smiling, Grissom slowly licked his bottom lip unconsciously, drawing his hands down her sides, feeling her ribs, feeling her breating. He let his fingers glide under the seam of her jeans, and started to unbutton them slowly. Sara raised her hips, and he drew the pants together with her panties down over her long legs. They landed on the floor with a soft thud. Laying naked before him, she felt self-consious for a moment, until she saw his gaze lingering on her. Nothing but love and amazement in his eyes, clouded over with thinly conceiled lust.

Grissom shifted on the bed, and kissed each hip softly, before running his hands over her stomach to her breats. He teased the sensitive underside with his fingertips for a while.

"Grissom... oohhh..." Sara's head pressed back into the pillow, eyes closing at the wonderful feelings his soft touch was causing.

Moving over her again, he put his weight on one arm, and kissed her deeply. The other hand was kneading her left breast, as he kissed his way lower. Encouraged by her soft moans, he licked and nibbled till Sara drew in a sharp breath when she felt his teeth nip at the sensitized skin, her hips pressing up into his. She felt his hard length pressing against her tigh. He moaned into her breast, moving to the other one, and repeated his actions.

"Gil... ooh... God..."

Sitting up abruptly, he shed his sweatpants. He had planned on taking this slow. He had wanted this to be perfect for her. Pleasing her, showing Sara she could trust him completely, but he was quickly losing control. Her responsiveness and exquisite feel under him made it impossibile for him to draw this out.

She saw the hunger in his eyes and moved slightly to draw him nearer.

Grissom quickly moved back over her, covering her mouth with his, right hand stroking her hair. Feeling her heat made him groan into her mouth, and he slid into her slowly, softly, letting her get accustomed to him. Gently rocking his hips, he looked into her eyes, seeing the love he felt for her mirrored in them.

Sara was having trouble keeping her eyes open. Grissom felt so good, he was so gentle. But she didn't want to break the connection between their gazes, she wanted to see his eyes, see the emotions playing in them, truly unguarded for the first time.

Feeling her legs lift, and rise over his hips, he was the first to break the contact by closing his eyes. "Sara..." Grissom lifted himself on both arms, and withdrew from her hot body, only to surge back in, forcefully. "God Sara!" Grunting, he slipped his hands under her shoulders, holding her to him as he increased his speed, unable to get enough.

Moaning loudly, Sara was beyond speaking. When his hands closed over her shoulders, she started panting, feeling the pleasure built. Grissom's sweat slick hair pressed against her right shoulder, and she felt his hot breath coming out in pants against her skin, as he started to move more forcefully, bringing her closer and closer, waves of pleasure crashing over her.

"Sara... oohh..." Grissom couldn't get enough of her and closed his mouth over her neck, biting down gently. He heard her gasp, and then her deep guttural moan, back arching off the bed. He slowed his movements, not releasing her skin from his mouth until she had quieted down, moaning softly.

Feeling his pleasure coil in the pit of his belly, nearly painful, he lifted his head, increasing his thrusts before he felt the pleasure snap, allowing him release, silent except for his breath leaving his body in gasps. Exhausted, he collapsed on top of her, breathing hard.

It was minutes later, before he could lift his head, and look at her. Her eyes were still closed, her breathing close to normal. Grissom reached up and freed her wrists from her shirt. It had never really prevented her from being able to extricate herself, but it made his heart ache that she had showed him that much trust, by allowing him that bit of control. Looking down he saw her chocolate eyes looking at him, smiling. He kissed her nose, and rolled to his side, drawing her with him. Sara snuggled up, pressing her face into his chest, one leg tangling with his, sighing contendedly.

One hand holding her hip protectively, and pressing her against him, Grissom closed his eyes, and they were both soon enveloped by a deep and peaceful sleep, feeling truly alive.

The end.


End file.
